


Lessons Learned

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: Ladyhawke (1985), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Transformation, Curses, Established Relationship, M/M, Switching, Wincest - Freeform, mostly Top!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe having an argument in a small mystical shop in Chinatown isn’t such a good idea, especially when you break something and think you can hide it from a powerful shaman. The Winchesters suddenly find themselves cursed, Dean by day, Sam by night. The brothers are taught a hard lesson about the meaning of love, respect, and most importantly, honesty. Dean is 31, Sam is 27. -- You don't have to have watched Ladyhawke for this fic to make sense.</p><p>Warning: Story contains explicit M/M scenes (Wincest). Please don’t read if you don’t like or are uncomfortable with this content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, Sam and Dean don't belong to me. They are the property of CW and Kripke. I just borrowed them for a little while.
> 
> The idea for this fic is loosely based on the 1985 fantasy film Ladyhawke which is the property of Warner Bros. & 20th Century Fox.
> 
> Please also note: novawuff.deviantart is responsible for the beautiful Wolf & Red-Tailed Hawk pic (I have only borrowed it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this concept would make a neat wincest fic, so here's my attempt...
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

 

 

The doorknob turned and the door flew open, banging back into the wall. (It may have made a small dent in the wall, but who cared?) Sam and Dean stumbled through it a second later, limbs wrapped around each, fingers deftly unfastening buttons and slipping under hems and down into waistbands. They both toed their shoes off, knowing from experience that it was best to do so quickly. Dean had already gotten Sam’s jeans undone before they were even into the room (being just that good). He kicked the door closed behind them, reaching back with a free hand and locking it, and then he slid his hand up the wall until he flipped the light switch on. Once those two little things were taken care of, Dean spun Sam around and slammed him up against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss and looked into his brother's lust-blown eyes. They were almost pure black with a thin ring of hazel around the outside.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said huskily before diving back in and licking his way into Sam’s hot, wet mouth.

With a quiet _whoosh_ of fabric and a soft _clink_ of the belt buckle, the younger Winchester’s pants hit the floor, followed closely by his dark boxer briefs. His flannel overshirt joined the pile a moment later and Dean reluctantly pulled back from the kiss with an exasperated groan to tug his brother’s t-shirt up and over his head. It soon went soaring somewhere off into the room.

“Fuck, Sammy. What’s up with all the layers? It’s the middle of summer,” Dean growled and took a step back to openly admire Sam’s lean form now that he’d finally divested his brother of all his clothing.

Sam’s hair was sticking out in all different directions; nothing new there. His heaving chest was a golden plane of hardened muscle and Dean let his eyes roam south from the firm pectorals to the jut of Sam’s hip bone, and yet further down. His brother’s cock was red and swollen, bobbing up against his stomach. It twitched under his roaming gaze. Dean’s tongue darted out over his lips, wetting them. Sam was his…just as much as he was Sam’s.

“Pot calling the kettle black, Dean.” Sam had already peeled his brother out of his jacket and overshirt. He still had a full set of clothes on, even after that.

“What?” Dean had forgotten what they were talking about and glanced up at Sam, blinking slowly. His mind was muddied from the surging hormones.

“Clothes, Dean. What, did all the blood leave your upstairs brain already?” Sam snickered. But he was taking in his brother’s muscular form as much as Dean was his own.

Dean’s jeans were hanging open, barely holding onto his narrow hips; his arousal was pressing firmly against the thin material of his briefs showing through the “v” of his pants; his lips were red and thoroughly kiss-swollen already (yeah, maybe Sam had been a little rough, but Dean could take it…and he liked it); his ever perfect hair, well, it wasn’t so perfect anymore, not after Sam had run his fingers through it and gripped it tightly. The flush on Dean’s face accentuated the dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. The man was hot, even if he was still half-dressed.

“Nah, I’m good. Just thinking about which way I’m gonna fuck you tonight.” Dean leered hotly.

A shiver ran down Sam’s spine in anticipation. He reached over and tucked a finger through a belt loop on each side of Dean’s jeans and tugged him forward. “Oh, yeah? And what if I had plans on fucking you tonight?” He smiled and stared into Dean’s moss-colored eyes. Sam let his body drift forward and rubbed his hardened cock against the man, eliciting a quiet moan from him. He almost couldn’t suppress the soft keen that tried to erupt from deep in his own throat.

Dean arched an eyebrow. Sam hardly ever topped in their relationship. He could probably count on less than two hands how many times it happened since they both gave into their desire for one another only a couple years ago.

But Sam _was_ just as good at giving as he was taking. “Well…” he didn’t know what to say. If Sam really wanted to, he certainly wouldn’t stop him.

Suddenly, Sam dropped to his knees and drew Dean’s pants and underwear down as he went. It hardly took any coercion for the fabric to fall loosely to the floor. He looked up then and caught Dean’s eye as he leaned forward and licked a long, wet line up the man’s cock from root to tip. He dipped his tongue into the slit, tasting the salty precum.

“Christ, Sam…” Dean’s eyes fluttered as he wobbled on instantly rubbery legs.

Sam grabbed the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, the one article of clothing that was still in his way, and pushed it up. “Will you take this goddamn thing off! Bitchin’ at me about clothes,” he muttered. “Seriously…”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” The shirt vanished and they were both finally naked (aside from their socks, but the carpet was pretty questionable – it was probably safer to leave them on for now).  

Sam dipped back down and sucked at the head of Dean’s cock as he reached up and teased his brother’s puckered hole with a finger. Dean jumped and Sam smiled internally, knowing his brother was freaking out about the idea of bottoming. Sam was only kidding, but he’d draw it out a little longer.

Dean’s hand fell to the top of Sam’s head and his fingers threaded through his long hair, curling through the soft strands. A little pressure and Sam knew the man wanted more. He pulled away with a wet _pop_ and then swirled his tongue around the head before taking him all the way in.

Dean gasped as Sam deep-throated him. He felt his knees give a little more and had to remind himself to keep standing. Blow jobs were so not a good thing to get without anything to help hold him up (especially when given by his brother who seemed to be a master at the art of fellatio). He reached down with his free hand and gripped Sam’s shoulder tightly for support. “Shit, yeah, Sam. Just like that. Fuck.”

When he felt Dean’s dick start to twitch in his mouth, Sam pulled back and stood up. He feathered soft touches up Dean’s abdomen and tweaked a nipple. His brother jumped at the pinching sensation. “Dean…” Sam breathed softly into the man’s neck, nipping and sucking while he trailed his fingers up and down the scarred flesh of his brother’s back. Dean’s hands were all over Sam, sending sparks along every nerve ending in his body. “I want you to fuck me.”

“But-”

“I was kidding, Dean.” Sam bit down…hard, leaving a mark that was sure to show in the morning. He sucked and laved at it, soothing the pain away.

Dean growled and pushed Sam back. “Bed. Now.” He made a quick stop at his duffel and found the lube. When Dean looked up, Sam was sprawled out on the bed, one knee bent, a hand sliding down to touch his balls and then stroke up his cock. Jesus, what a sight.

He stooped to yank off his socks and climbed up onto the bed in between Sam’s already spread legs. Popping the cap on the bottle of lube, Dean generously coated his fingers. He then leaned down and kissed up along the man’s thighs, first left, then right. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Sammy. It’s not surprising I have to fend the damn women off.” Dean nipped at Sam’s hip as he reached down and circled his brother’s needy hole with a finger and then pushed into the tight ring of muscle.

Sam squirmed and pushed down onto his brother’s finger. It was nowhere near enough. “C’mon, Dean,” he breathed out. His fingers curled into the blankets. “I’m not some innocent school girl who’s never been laid.”

Dean took Sam’s heated flesh in hand and began to stroke it, thumbing over the head on each upstroke and twisting, just the way he knew the man liked it. “You want more?” He pulled his finger out and teased at the soft flesh behind Sam’s balls before pushing three fingers back in. Sam groaned. “You like that, huh? Just wait until I get my big dick in there.”

“Fuck, yeah, Dean.” Sam started fucking down onto Dean’s fingers and up into the man’s hand. He felt like he was going to go up in flames when his brother’s fingers brushed over his prostate. “Now, Dean. C’mon.” He looked down and caught Dean’s eye. There was almost an animalistic look of need there.

A few more slip-slides of his fingers and Dean pulled them out. He couldn’t wait anymore. Grabbing the lube once more, he coated his aching cock and shifted closer to Sam, lining himself up. “Mine,” he growled as he plunged all the way in with one swift and powerful stroke. He pulled back and slid forward again, picking up the pace with every in-and-out slide of his dick into the man’s tight hole.

Sam had been waiting for this all night, ever since they finished the hunt for that goddamn shapeshifter earlier. But Dean had wanted to go to the bar after they had gotten back and washed up, said he needed to release some tension first. Well, dammit, Sam could’ve helped him do that.

A particularly hard thrust brought Sam out of his thoughts and he saw stars as Dean slammed into his sensitive bundle of nerves again. Sam let out a slur of incomprehensible sounds. He felt his cock twitch as his orgasm began to flare up deep inside; he could already feel the beginnings of it in his toes.

Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, wet and sloppy, and maybe there might have been a little teeth there, too. He reached in between them and grasped Sam’s now weeping flesh and matched his strokes with every thrust. He tugged at Sam’s lower lip with his teeth and pulled away. They held eye contact, green to hazel, hazel to green. Dean saw the slightest change in his brother’s eyes at the same instant he felt Sam’s muscles flutter and start to clench around him. “Yeah, that’s it, Sam. Come for me.”

Sam’s lips curled up, almost as if he was in pain, and he cried out as he came, spurting hot, liquid fire over his stomach and chest. Dean’s thrusts quickly became irregular and he groaned, breath ragged, as he gave one last deep thrust and came. Sweat was pouring down his face from the exertion. “Goddamn that was good.” He pulled out and dropped down on the bed next to Sam. After a breath, Dean rolled over and wrapped his arm around his brother’s chest, nestling up against him.

“Dude, you’re not really gonna leave me like this are you?” Sam asked almost drowsily.

“Like what?” Dean grumbled. He was already half asleep. The hunt had taken a lot out of him and the orgasm pushed him over the edge.

Sam huffed a frustrated sigh and lifted his brother’s arm off of him. He sat up and slid out of bed. “Never mind. Just go to sleep.” He padded off to the bathroom to clean up. Dean wasn’t nearly as romantic these days as he was earlier on. Really, what did Sam expect? This was Dean Winchester he was talking about.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean rolled over and smacked his lips as he fought against waking up. He was starting to feel the hits he had taken yesterday from that damn shapeshifter and groaned. It was funny how a night’s sleep could do that to you, he mused.

That son of a bitch hadn’t wanted to go down. Dean had known it was all over for himself when it got the jump on him, pinning him to the damp wall in that friggin’ dungeon of a basement they had found it in. He felt the pressure of its fingers squeezing tightly around his neck as he was turning blue from lack of air. (Dean could still feel the phantom fingers and was sure if he looked in the mirror, there would be dark bruising there by now.) The only reason he was alive today was because Sam got the shot, a silver bullet right through the thing’s heart, sending it straight to Hell or wherever things like that usually went when they died.

It didn’t take more than a minute to realize he was by himself; the room was too quiet. Sam must have gone out to get breakfast. _Atta boy,_ Dean thought, stomach growling at the mere idea of food. He slowly forced himself upright and stretched out the kinks that had settled in. (Seriously, he was getting too old for this shit.) Dean was getting tired. He was tired of the game, the hunting, and everything else that came with it. Some days it felt like it was just him and Sam against all the legions of Hell and it was getting old. Actually, it wasn’t _getting_ old, it _was_ old.

He flipped the blankets off and shuffled like an old man across the room to the bathroom. _Thank god Sammy isn’t here to see this._ Dean was sure a nice, hot shower would do wonders for his aches. That, and a few ibuprofen.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam was sitting at the table with breakfast laid out in front of him when the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped into the room, steam from the shower following in his wake. The younger Winchester lowered the newspaper he was browsing as his eyes drifted down to the small, white towel which barely kept his brother’s modesty intact. It was so little, in fact, Dean even had to hold the two corners of it together to keep it there. It didn’t do much when he had to bend over to retrieve his duffel from the floor though. Sam bit his lip and smiled. Motels sucked, but there were some benefits, like napkin-sized bath towels.

He cleared his throat, trying to get some control of his voice. “Got breakfast. Egg sandwiches and hash browns. Hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dean said as he went back into the bathroom to finish up. The water turned on a moment later as he started to brush his teeth.

“Wouldn’t hurt to say ‘thanks’, dude,” Sam mumbled under his breath. _What was up with Dean these days?_ Lately, Sam felt like he was just there for his brother’s convenience. He knew it wasn’t true, but it damn well felt like it. Sure, the sex was still great, but everything in between, the hunting, their daily lives, and everything else…not so much. Sam wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. He loved the man dearly, but part of him just wanted to get even, show Dean what it was like to be taken for granted, and then maybe his thick-headed brother would figure it out.

Dean stalked out of the bathroom fully dressed and freshly shaven a few minutes later and plopped down into the olive green plastic chair across from Sam. He unwrapped one of the sandwiches and took a huge bite. After he chewed and swallowed, Dean looked up at Sam and noticed he didn’t look like his usual perky self. “What’s up?” He bit into his hash brown and waited for Sam to respond.

“Nothing.” Sam replied somewhat moodily as he continued to look at the newspaper. He wasn’t really reading anymore because he’d already scanned the articles and obits for anything unusual. Everything looked like ordinary run-of-the-mill stuff, nothing unusual…except maybe the guy who ran his own foot over with his car. How anyone could do that… But it was a good excuse to keep Dean from catching his eye and being able to break Sam down.

An eyebrow lifted. “Yeah, that sounds real honest.” Dean didn’t know of any reason that Sam should be pissed at him. He hadn’t done anything lately, not that he knew of anyway.

Sam still didn’t say anything. He could feel Dean staring at him, trying to figure out what was going on. _Good_.

 _Bitch,_ Dean thought, but didn’t voice it. Obviously something had happened, but clearly Sam wasn’t going to spill. “Soooo, Mr. Chatty Cathy, any ideas on where we’re going next?” Their hunt for the shapeshifter had taken them to central Ohio and they’d been here for just under a week. Dean was itching to get back on the road.

“Chicago.”

“Alright.” Dean nodded. “Another job?” He was working on the second half of his sandwich now. Another was sitting on the table waiting for him. It looked like Sam had already finished what he was going to eat.

“No. Just a pick-up for Bobby. Some religious shop in Chinatown…the big one over on Cermak, not the other one. He dropped me an e-mail the other day asking if we could swing by to pick up a book he’s been looking for; I guess he’s been trying to find it for a while. Sounded like it was important to him, so I said we’d take care of it. It’s the least we can do after everything he’s done for us. It won’t take more than an afternoon.” Sam finally folded the paper and sat back in his chair, kicking a long leg out in front of him (he made sure not to touch his brother in any way) and waited for Dean’s response.

Chinatown wasn’t one of those places high on Dean’s priority list. He always said if he wanted to visit China, he’d go to China…and he didn’t want to go to China. Sam knew the underlying reason for the man’s hesitance. Chinatown was busy, swarming with locals and tourists. His brother didn’t do too well in an environment like that. He much preferred the quiet solitude of the open road.

“Chinatown. Huh.” Dean mulled it over. “Yeah, okay.” If it would get Sam out of this _thing_ he had going on, then Dean could deal with a few hours in Chinatown. But it didn’t keep him from cringing inwardly.

“Really?” Sam was expecting an argument, not instant agreement.

“As long as I get to try out some of the local cuisine first,” Dean said as he stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth and grinned.

Bitch face #4 made itself known.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They had a six hour trip ahead of them. Both hunters got everything packed up and were ready to roll out onto the road within the hour. Neither said much to the other and Dean decided to just let it go for now. Sam got a bug up his ass every now and then; he was entitled to it. But if things didn’t fix themselves by tonight, his brother was going to get something else up his ass to straighten him out. Dean smirked.

And Sam saw it. That look was evil on his brother’s face. _Oh, hell. Now what?_ He rolled his eyes as he wrenched the passenger side door open with a loud creak, folded himself into the car, and then slammed it shut behind him.

In the car, Dean had another chance to redeem himself. Sam had filled the tank when he had gone out to get breakfast that morning. If he got even a smidgen of acknowledgement for it, he’d give up on this whole charade. After all, it was going to suck sitting in the car all the way to Chicago with this thick tension floating in the air between them.

Sam watched his brother out of the corner of his eye and saw the exact moment when the man noticed the gas gauge read full. He waited as Dean started the engine up and put the car in drive. He waited as they pulled out onto the road. Nothing. Goddamn it.

Okay, he’d make it a little easier. (Sometimes Dean was a little dense.) “The tank was getting low, so I stopped and filled it this morning.”

“I noticed. Thanks for pointing that out, Sammy.”

“Dammit, Dean,” Sam’s irritation boiled over; he finally lost it. “Can’t you even begin to appreciate anything I do for you? What’s your problem?”

 _Was that what Sam’s problem was?_ Dean glanced over at his brother and then looked back at the road. Sam picked the weirdest damn things to get pissy about. “Okay, thanks for getting the gas. I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘Thank you’. And thank you for whatever else it is that I apparently missed earlier.” He reached over and grabbed his sunglasses, unfolded them with the help of his teeth and put them on. He flicked the radio on and turned the volume up.

Sam translated his brother’s actions to say, “This conversation’s over.” Fuck. Why did he feel like such an asshole for doing this? The sign for I-469N went by as they turned onto the highway. Sam sighed as he slid down into the seat and rested his head against the window, resigned to watch the passing scenery.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Somewhere just outside of Fort Wayne, Indiana, Dean pulled off the highway. Minutes later he stopped at a gas station/convenience store. He still hadn’t said a word since getting on the interstate.

“Gotta take a leak.” He got out of the car and headed around the side of the building. Sam had to go, too, but he’d wait until Dean was done.

Dean was getting pissed. Really, he was already there. While he drove, he chewed over Sam’s accusation. Yeah, maybe he’d forgotten to say “thank you” on a few occasions for something here and there, but damn, didn’t he make up for it with his actions. Actions spoke louder than words, or so the saying always went. Sam and his big brain always overthinking stuff. Dean wet his hands and wiped them over his face. He’d let his brother sulk for a while longer. Tonight they’d talk and get this shit fixed.

He made a quick trip into the small store to pick up some food and drinks for the remainder of the trip and pay for the gas. As he was standing in line, Dean saw Sam making a beeline for the bathroom. His brother looked weary and Dean clenched his jaw in aggravation. This sucked. He didn’t like when they fought. It wasn’t as often as it had once been, but it still happened.

Dean walked back out to the car and tossed the plastic shopping bag through the window onto the seat. He hoped his peanut M&M’s would survive until he got to them. The morning was moving on to afternoon, and with it came the hot summer heat. It was mid-July and the weather hadn’t been letting them forget it lately. If he remembered correctly, it was supposed to hit ninety today.

Dean threw the switch up on the pump and pushed the nozzle into the car. He leaned against the trunk and waited as he watched the comings and goings of other people at the store. A minute or two later, he heard the door open behind him and then felt the dip of the car as Sam settled in. The door didn’t close immediately. The interior was probably getting warm sitting out under the late morning sun. Not a cloud was in the sky to keep it from broiling them today.

Soon, the nozzle clicked letting Dean know he’d hit his dollar limit and he pulled it out, replaced the gas cap, and then snapped the license plate back up. He hung the nozzle back up and dusted his hands off on his jeans before getting back into the car. He was so looking forward to the silent treatment for the next three hours.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They arrived in Chinatown a little before three o’clock. Since Dean had avoided these places like the plague, he didn’t know what to expect as he drove under the paifang (the large red arch spanning the entrance into Chinatown). He ducked his head to look at it as they passed under it.

“Wow, they really take this stuff seriously, huh,” he commented a little sarcastically.

The traffic moved slowly and they took in the sights. Street vendors selling everything from fruits and vegetables to clothes, newspapers, and tiny Asian knickknacks lined the street. Businesses of every type were to be found. Dean liked the wide variety of restaurants he saw and subconsciously darted his tongue out over his lips.

“Yeah, they try to keep with the Chinese tradition. Most of these people are direct immigrants from China,” Sam explained. “Even the architecture is authentic. The paifang that we drove under, the Chinese government gifts those to a lot of the Chinatowns. It’s all rather fascinating.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow and stared over at Sam. “Geek.”

“Sorry. I’ve always thought it was interesting how they could create a place like this, bringing their culture over here and keeping outside influences out.”

Dean could appreciate Sam’s interest in the place. He had to admit it was pretty neat. It was like they’d gotten off the boat and stepped into another world. Eying the first open parking spot he’d seen since turning onto Cermak, Dean slipped the car gracefully into it. It was like hitting the lotto out here. “Well, I for one am starving. Let’s find something to eat and then we can find that bookstore.” He stepped out of the car, but leaned back down to look at Sam. “Lock her up. We don’t know how far we gotta walk.” And then he stood up, locking the door, and closed it behind him.

Both men took a minute to stretch. Baby was big, but when you were over six feet tall, she wasn’t _that_ big.

They walked down the street. The businesses they passed varied. There were at least four different types of food joints – Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai, Malaysian – but Dean wanted good ol' Chinese. Nothing quite piqued his interest yet. They passed by some kind of herbal shop, then a laundry cleaning service. Dean’s eyes were drawn to the video stores in particular. He’d heard rumors of the types of porn these places had. Busty Asian Beauties had nothing on them. Sam practically had to pull him away.

“But…”

“C’mon, Dean. Food, remember?”

Finally, they decided on a noodle house not too far away. Dean was a little disturbed by the roast ducks and suckling pigs hanging on display, but the food smelled good and his mouth was already watering.

Sam ordered Yeung Chow fried rice and roast duck. Dean stared at the menu for a while and then ordered wonton noodles and roast pork. They took a seat on a bench off to the side, both eying a food stall across the way that, aside from the Japanese seaweed and black duck eggs, had live fish swimming in a tank.

“Mmm, this shit’s good,” Dean managed through a mouthful of noodles.

“It’s about as real as you’re gonna get.” Sam let himself smile. He was still upset with Dean, but it was good to see his brother having a decent time on their outing; the man hadn’t complained about anything yet and he seemed relaxed. He was enjoying his food quite a bit, too, but Dean liked just about any kind of food.

“Did you know Bruce Lee was born in the Chinatown in San Francisco?” Sam thought Dean would get a kick out of that.

“Really?” Dean raised his brows as he slurped a noodle up into his mouth. He was scraping at the bottom of his container and was thinking about going up for seconds. Maybe he’d have to make a habit of swinging by these places more often, if not just for the food. It was so much better than the little take-out joints they ordered from while on the road.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“Okay,” Sam said, “We’re looking for a specialty shop; one that sells mystical things, you know, little Buddhas, altars, Hell money. It’s not gonna be a big, fancy commercial one like the one we already passed, but something that’s a little more behind-the-scenes, if you know what I mean. Bobby said it’s about halfway down the road. I guess there’s an alley with a few shops in it.”

“No address?”

“No. Apparently, they like to remain somewhat anonymous because of the stuff they sell. It’s not all on the right side of legal.”

“Huh. Well, alright, let’s get going. This place is neat and all, but we’re still gonna need to find a place to stay tonight and it’s not going to be here.”

They walked a ways up the road, checking a few of the alleys. Most led to the back entrances of the main storefronts, but a few had shops in them. What they found down these alleys was definitely shady compared to what was on the main drag.

On their fourth alley, they found what they were looking for. The small sign hanging on the door was illegible to either of them because the name was represented in Chinese characters. A small bell over the door tinkled when they walked in.

The first thing they noticed was that the place was a bit on the dusty side, like it didn’t get all that much foot traffic. It could have used some more light, too. Dean was immediately drawn to the authentic looking artifacts lining the shelves. There were several aisles of spiritual and religious items, many of which were just what they appeared to be, cheap and useless…probably the store’s “front”. But some items, further back into the room, both brothers knew were probably better to be left alone.

After a few minutes of looking for, but not finding anything that resembled the book Bobby requested, Sam left Dean about his own business while he went over to talk to the old guy behind the counter.

A little while later, Sam stepped up behind his brother. The elder Winchester was studying the Chinese zodiac calendar hanging on the wall.

"Dude, check this out. I'm a horse." Dean leaned in and studied the chart further still, then let out a snort a second later. "And you're a fucking pig." He burst out laughing. "Sooiee, Sammy!"

Sam just stared at his brother, narrowing his eyes, and shook his head in wonderment. Was Dean  _ever_ going to grow up? "Horse," he muttered under his breath. "More like a horse’s ass if you ask me."

“I heard that, Sam. You know, I’m just trying to have a good time here, okay. Since when aren’t you able to take a joke?”

“Dean, you’re… God.” Sam let out a frustrated breath. “I just wanted to let you know this guy’s the real thing, a real, honest-to-goodness Wu – a Chinese shaman if you don’t know what that is. Just don’t fuck around with anything in here, okay. Most of this stuff is definitely real, too, and I’m willing to bet a lot of it has some kick to it.”

“Yeah, alright. But you know, I gotta say, I love you, Sam, but today, you’re making it a bit difficult.”

“Well, if you’d just stop taking things for granted-”

“I’m taking things for granted?” Dean turned to face his brother and placed his fists on his hips. Sam’s nostrils were flared and he looked pissed. “Really, I don’t, Sam. What you said in the car about me not appreciating things, I do. And I’m sorry if I don’t remember to thank you for each and every damn thing. I didn’t know I had to.”

“Dean…,” Sam growled low. He didn’t want to have this argument here in the store and took a step back to turn around, but he hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to a shelf and bumped into it with his elbow. A small figurine fell to the floor and broke into two pieces. One part of it rolled over and stopped at Dean’s feet.

They both stared at the broken artifact, or whatever it was. Sam looked over his shoulder. The Wu was still in the back room retrieving the book Sam had come for. Apparently, certain _specialty items_ were kept in the back room.

“Shit.” Sam and Dean looked at each other, eyes wide. They both knew that couldn’t be good. Each bent down and picked up the pieces from the floor, jumping when they heard the man return with Bobby’s book. Glancing at each other, they palmed the fragments and slipped them into their pockets.

Dean told Sam he’d meet him outside and Sam went to the counter to pay for the ancient book. When he turned to leave, the Wu cleared his throat. _Damn._ The Wu was a short man, maybe a little over five feet tall, but Sam was intimidated by him, knowing what he was capable of. He looked at the shaman, trying to keep his facial expression neutral, clear of any guilt.

“I know what happened, Sam; things don’t go unnoticed in here. This _is_ my shop after all.” The man said the words with a kind smile, ancient brown eyes still bright and clear. There was no hint whatsoever that the man was upset.

But Sam still panicked. _He_ _knows_. The young hunter’s heart rate increased and his palms began to sweat. “Oh, god,” he said with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry." Sam reached into his pocket to take out his half of the figurine, but the man held up a staying hand.

“Keep it. You will have to fix what is broken before it can be considered whole again. But it will come with a price.”

The words were cryptic, loaded, but Sam decided to take them at face value. “I have money. I can pay-”

The Wu chuckled. “You are so young. I don’t need your money. Go. And good luck on your journey. You have many things yet to learn in life…especially those that involve the heart.”

Sam took the book off the counter and nearly fled the store. The last few words the Wu said disturbed him. He had no idea what they meant.


	2. Chapter 2

_Damn, it’s hot out here,_ Dean thought as he wiped the sweat from his brow while waiting outside for Sam. He should have grabbed an extra bottle of water at the food stand. (Hindsight was a friggin’ bitch.) The shadows between the buildings provided little respite from the high temps of the day and he was glad he left his jacket in the car even if it meant he had to leave his cherished Colt behind. And what the hell was taking Sam so long to pay for that book anyway?

As he stood there leaning against the wall a few paces away from the shop door, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the fragment of the figurine that Sam had knocked to the floor. _Clumsy freakin’ sasquatch._ He turned it over in his hand and studied it.

It was a hawk and the detail was amazing for something so small; it was no larger than his thumbnail, but Dean could see the definition of its feathers, the piercing depths of its eyes. It looked old and appeared to be made out of ivory or something comparable. Dean hoped it wasn’t some cursed object that would give them bad luck for seven years or something. Why they even stuffed the pieces in their pockets in the first place was beyond him; they both knew better than that.

He jumped and almost dropped the piece when Sam came flying out the door and grabbed him by the shoulder, dragging him back up towards the entrance to the alley.

“Dude, what’s the rush?” Dean asked as he was towed along, looking back over his shoulder expecting a Chinese dragon to come lunging after them. It wouldn’t surprise him in their line of work.

“Let’s just get outta here.” What was Sam going to say? That he was scared of some little old man in an antique store who claimed to be an all-powerful wizard? Dean would howl with laughter at him. He would just say the guy was trying to scare him for breaking one of his things and then trying to hide it.

“Oookay… But you can let go of me now. I _am_ capable of walking myself back to the car, you know.” The elder Winchester shook loose from Sam’s grasping claim on his arm.

Sam felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders when they rounded the corner into the bright sunlight of the main avenue. Crowds were bustling everywhere; street vendors were busy selling their wares; tourists were handing out hard-earned money for little trinkets to bring home as reminders of their visit. He took in a deep breath and kept walking. Poor Dean had to double-step it to keep up, but Sam needed to put some distance between himself and the quandary he had left behind.

The words repeated themselves over and over in Sam’s head. “You will have to fix what is broken before it can be considered whole again. _But it will come with a price_.” What price? Was he in danger? Or worse yet, were they _both_ in danger? Had the man somehow figured out they were together? “You have many things yet to learn in life… _especially those that involve the heart_.”

Sam picked up the pace.

“Dude, slow down. I can’t keep up with your freakishly long legs here.” _Nothing like running a marathon in a hot furnace_. Dean could feel the trickle of sweat pouring down his back. He was calling dibs on first shower when they got to whatever motel they were going to crash in for the night.

Sam forced himself to slow down. There were too many people on the sidewalk and he was sure he was pissing off more than a few by charging through them. It wasn’t fair to Dean either.

Once they got into the car, Dean looked at Sam before putting the key in the ignition. “Sam, what the hell? Something happen back there?” His brother was rubbing his hands up over his face and back through his sweaty hair. “Hey, Sammy, are you okay? Do I have to go back there and kick some ass?” He reached up and put a soothing hand on the back of Sam’s neck, trying to bring him down from wherever he was. Dean could feel the tension under the man’s skin.

Sam finally looked over at Dean. He had sufficiently freaked his brother out; he could see it in the man’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to do that. Hell, Sam wasn’t so sure why he was even freaking out. It’s not like the Wu sat there and read some incantation off, cursing them; he hadn’t done anything except make a couple of ambiguous statements. Fuck, the guy probably got off on scaring the tourists.

Dean lifted an eyebrow when a choked noise escaped his brother’s lips and suddenly Sam started laughing. “Sam? You gonna let me in on the big secret here, or what? That guy slip you something? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, you’re acting really weird, man.”

“He was pulling my leg, Dean. That’s all.” Sam shook his head in disbelief. “Scared the shit outta me by saying some whacked out stuff. But now that I’ve had a minute to think about it, all it was, was harmless crap. You see, he knew about what happened somehow, the broken figurine – I think he even picked up on the fact that we’re together – and he must’ve decided to mess with me. He was pulling my leg.” The more Sam repeated it to himself, the better he felt. He shifted in the seat and looked at Dean with a smile on his face. “I can’t believe I fell for that shit. Asshole.”

Dean didn’t even want to know, as long as Sam was okay. If Sam didn’t think it was a big deal, whatever it was, he would trust his brother’s judgment. “Well, you always were kinda gullible.” Dean let out a chuckle and winked. Sam just gave him one of those looks, but his smiled widened, deepening his dimples. “Alright, now that you’ve figured that out for yourself, let’s go find ourselves somewhere to buckle down for the rest of the day. I need a shower and you stink. Maybe later we’ll call in some pizza.” He finally reached down and started the car up.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean drove them to some small suburb a little over a half hour northwest of Chicago. The motels were a lot less expensive away from the big city and they didn’t exactly have a huge budget. Sometime in the near future they were going to have to apply for some new credit cards and Dean was going to have to hit up the billiards tables or grab a few games of poker to help with the cash flow.

Now that evening was on its way in, the temps were starting to cool off and they drove with the windows down. It was refreshing, having the wind in their faces. The whole argument from this morning seemed to have exhausted itself and it hadn’t reared its ugly head again. Sam appeared to be okay for now and Dean was cautiously optimistic that things were back to normal. He made a mental note to make sure he paid a little more attention to his brother, the princess that he was. Dean swallowed a laugh at the thought of Sam in a pink dress and a tiara. After all, he _was_ the girl in this relationship.

The motel was better than some they’d stayed in before. It was one of the few that had a small kitchenette for no extra charge and it even had more than three stations on the television. If Dean tried really hard, he could catch the porn channel in between the static. – After their relationship got off to its hesitant start, neither being sure if it was right or wrong, or whether the other wanted it or not (it took a while to figure that out), the elder Winchester still wouldn’t give up on the porn no matter how much their own nights put the stuff to shame – Oh, and the air conditioning worked, too, which was a bonus.

Dean tossed his duffel onto the king-sized bed. When the bag caused a ripple under the pink, purple, and red swirled comforter, he stopped in his tracks. “Holy shit!” They must’ve missed the fine-print when they checked in.

Sam came up short as if he slammed into a wall, not sure what Dean was going on about. He dropped the weapons duffel just inside their door and asked, “What, we need another room? Something wrong with this one?”

“Dude! It’s a water bed!” Dean slipped his boots off and launched himself onto it. His body rolled with the waves and he moaned as he floated there. The look on his face reminded Sam of the many times Dean had used the Magic Fingers, only better. They’d _never_ had a waterbed. The possibilities…

Sam’s eyebrows disappeared up behind his long bangs. His clothing duffel slipped off his shoulder and fell to the floor as he watched Dean lay there in sheer bliss. The whole scene made Sam want to either laugh or rip Dean’s clothes off and make passionate love to him. His pants had started feeling tight as soon as the man let out that first husky moan.

Dean flopped over onto his back like a fish. “This is so awesome, dude.” He spread his arms out and wiggled his body up and down, causing more ripples to roll across the bed beneath him. His eyes were now closed, and the smile only grew as he relaxed with the motion. He was making little happy noises that Sam wasn’t even sure he was aware of.

Yeah, Sam had to look away. If Dean kept moving like that and making those sounds… “I’ll give you one minute to get your ass in the shower or I’m taking it,” Sam said as he reached down and adjusted himself.

The words brought Dean around. His eyes opened instantly and he made to sit up. His ass was in the middle of the bed and his center of gravity pushed him further down into it; it made for a very awkward position. And it was making it difficult to actually get up and out of the bed. He heard Sam snickering and tried to ignore him as he continued in his attempt to climb out of the bed. Dean _wouldn’t_ ask his brother for help – not in a million years – even as he flailed his limbs and finally resorted to rolling out of the bed.

By now, Sam was doubled over with laughter, tears pricking at his eyes. This was just too funny, seeing Dean floundering there like an oversized turtle. Only when it was too late, did Sam think of taking a picture.

“Dude, you suck,” Dean said as he walked by, smacking Sam’s firm ass on the way to the bathroom. “See if I leave you any hot water.” He closed the door behind him.

Sam felt the heat from Dean’s hand burn through his flesh. His brother hadn’t pulled back on the hit, but gave it to him swift and hard. And it felt good. It was probably a good thing Dean threatened to use up all the hot water, because seriously, Sam was gonna need a long, cold shower, very cold.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean was feeling much better now that he was sweat-free and dressed in clean clothes. When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Sam leaning up against the counter with a tumbler of something in his hand. The elder Winchester arched an eyebrow in question. “Where’d you get the drink?” He dropped his dirty clothes in a pile by his bag.

Sam stood up and shuffled over a step, revealing a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass sitting on the counter behind him. “Packie across the street.” He grinned. “Figured I owe you after this morning.”

Dean crossed the room and poured himself a glass. But before he took a drink, he reached over and pulled Sam to him. “Thank you.” And then he leaned up to kiss his brother chastely. When he broke away, he wrinkled his nose. “Dude, shower. I wasn’t kiddin’ earlier. You smell.” Dean took a sip from his glass and smacked his lips. “I’ll get the pizza ordered and then maybe we can try to figure out the bed later.” He waggled an eyebrow teasingly.

Sam leaned down and kissed Dean again, but he didn’t let up as quickly as Dean did. He licked and teased his brother’s lips until the man relented and let him in. Pulling away a moment later, he said, “Pepperoni and extra cheese.” He was halfway across the room when he called back over his shoulder, “Why don’t you get some chicken wings, too. I’m starving.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The delivery guy came while Sam was finishing up in the bathroom and Dean carried the boxes over to the table. When Sam came out into the main room, he saw that his brother had another glass of whiskey in his hand. Sam’s eyes flickered over to the bottle and saw that the man was more than likely on his third or fourth glass. Sadly, that was pretty normal for Dean.

As he came to sit down at the table, Sam saw something familiar lying next to the box of wings. It was the half of the figurine that Dean had picked up off the floor at the shop. Sam rolled his bottom lip in and bit down on it. He got the goose-bumps just looking at the thing, but he reminded himself that it was just a knickknack, nothing more. The so-called Wu was just some old Oriental guy trying to screw with his head….hopefully.

“You got your half?” Dean asked when he saw Sam eying the bird.

Sam jumped. He hadn’t realized he was just standing there staring at the small…what? Hawk? He glanced up at Dean. The man had produced a tube of super glue from somewhere and was smiling. “Oh…yeah. Um, it’s still in my pocket from earlier. Hang on, I’ll go get it.” He went to retrieve his jeans from the bathroom floor and reached into the right-hand pocket where he had tucked his fragment earlier. Sam hadn’t looked at it since putting it in there. Holding it up to the bright light in the bathroom, he examined it.

It was a wolf, very finely detailed, very small like its counterpart; it was maybe three-quarters the length of Sam’s thumb. Whoever had carved it was a master craftsman. It was so life-like that Sam half-expected it to come alive in the palm of his hand. He turned it over, looking for where the hawk would have once been attached to it, but couldn’t find anywhere on it that appeared to be damaged. “Huh.”

“It’s a wolf,” Sam said when he came back out and sat down, placing it on the table next to the hawk.

Dean was licking hot sauce off his fingers when Sam settled into the seat across from him and leaned over to lift the lid to the pizza box. “So whatcha think? Is it some Buddha hoodoo or something, or some touristy crap?” He picked the two pieces up from the table and, like Sam, tried to figure out where they connected. “’Cause if it’s hoodoo and we get cursed with bad luck for the next who-knows-how-many-years, I’m pointing my finger at you. You broke it.”

Dean unscrewed the cap to the glue and picked up the wolf. He studied it while chewing on his bottom lip and holding the tube at the ready. He was having the same problem as Sam; he couldn’t see where the hawk and the wolf fit together.

Sam could only narrow his eyes at Dean over the long string of cheese stretched between the slice in his hand and his mouth. Finally, it got the best of him and he had to use his fingers to snap it.

He decided not to react to Dean’s little dig; they didn’t need a fight tonight. “Um,” his forehead creased, and then Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I’d lean more towards the touristy crap,” – he was only saying that because he hoped the shaman was a fraud – “but I can’t say for sure. I just don’t know a lot about Eastern lore and talismans. We could take a couple of pictures and send them to Bobby.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Dean replied absently as he held the wolf up so he could take a closer look at it. “Hey, did you see this thing before it fell off the shelf?”

The younger Winchester looked up from his food. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head no.

“Huh.” Dean set the glue down and then picked up the hawk. He tried to match the pieces up together as if they were two parts of a puzzle and frowned after a minute or two of not having any luck. “Are we even sure this used to be one piece? It could’ve been two-” He cut himself off as he felt the hawk slip into a groove that was hardly noticeable. “Finally!” Dean exclaimed in triumph. He picked up the glue and squeezed out a drop onto the wolf where the hawk fit.

Sam watched as he ate. Dean was always the one taking things apart and putting them back together, so he wasn’t surprised when his brother took it upon himself to try to put the two pieces back together.

Dean suddenly grinned. “Hey, you remember that commercial when we were kids, the one where the guy super-glued his hard hat to the I-beam and hung from it?”

“No, not really, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yeah, you were probably still in diapers when it was on. I always wondered if that would work.” Dean kept smiling as he reached over and carefully set the now whole figurine down on the table in front of him. “There. Just like new.” He pulled a slice of pizza out of the box as he gave it time to dry.

They sat in silence, eating for a while. Dean hadn’t had more than a couple of wings before he started playing Mr. Fix-It.

Sam looked up and saw that his brother was picking the pepperoni off the pizza and making a smiley face on his plate with it. He had never seen a grown man play with his food as much as Dean did. Obviously, the man was in a good mood.

When Dean saw him watching, he asked, “What,” like it was perfectly normal to be doing what he was doing.

Sam didn’t say anything. He just took another bite of his pizza.

One large pizza and one medium box of heat factor level 10 hot wings later, the brothers were done with their meal. After cleaning off the table, they sat back down for a final round of whiskey.

“Lookin’ good,” Dean said, eying the figurine with pride.

All of a sudden, the hawk slid off the back of the wolf and fell to the table. Sam snickered as Dean sat there, stunned, his mouth agape. “Still wanna try hanging from that I-beam?”

Dean scowled. “Shut up.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam was sitting at the table a while later when his cell phone rang. He was on his laptop searching for anything that might look like a job between their current location and Sioux Falls since they were looking to head out that way shortly.

Checking the caller I.D., Sam saw it was Bobby. He had e-mailed pictures of the figurine to him not long after they had finished dinner, asking if the man had ever seen its like. He didn’t get into any detail on how they came about having it in their possession.

Sam answered the phone, putting it on speaker, and then set the device down on the table so Dean could hear, too. “Hey, Bobby.”

Dean perked up from where he was bravely attempting to make friends with the bed a second time while watching T.V. He muted the television set when he heard Sam say the hunter’s name.

“Hi, Sam. I see you boys survived that shifter out in Ohio. That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, it was a piece of work, but we got it taken care of. – So, you have anything on those pictures I sent over?”

“Sorry to say, I haven’t seen anything like it. I checked a few of my books, but came up with nothing. You say it’s from that same shop I sent you to?”

“Yeah.” Sam was toying with the two pieces sitting on the table next to his laptop. After his failed attempt at gluing them back together, Dean hadn’t bothered to try again.

“Then chances are pretty good you’ve got a live one there.”

Sam immediately pulled his hand away from the fragments. _Shit._ If Bobby thought it was something…

The older hunter continued while Sam’s thoughts drifted. “I’m not sure why you two, especially you, Sam, would go gettin’ something like that without knowing what it was first. Why didn’t you ask the Wu before you went and bought it? That’s not like you.”

The young hunter looked over at Dean, then to the phone again. What was he going to tell the man? Bobby was going in a direction Sam hadn’t meant for this conversation to go in.

“Sam?” Bobby sighed. Sam’s hesitation was enough for him to know something was _off_ about this whole situation; he wasn’t born yesterday. “Aw, hell. You didn’t buy it, did you,” he said knowingly. “What’d you and Dean go gettin’ yourselves into now?”

Dean scooted to the edge of the bed and hauled himself up and out of it. (He was starting to get the hang of it now.) He walked over to the table and stood behind Sam, placing a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. Sam reached up and held it there.

“Bobby,” Dean began, relieving Sam from trying to explain things, “we had a minor accident and the thing got knocked off a shelf. It broke, is all. We just wanted to make sure we’re not gonna get some backlash for it.”

“Dammit all! You two… I tell ya. How you two’ve survived some of the things you have is beyond me. – I hope you kept in that Wu’s good graces then. He’s one powerful Buddhist shaman from what I’ve been told. And I’m sure most of the stuff in his shop shouldn’t be touched, let alone broke. – Why didn’t you just talk to him about it? – Oh, wait, let me guess…you two yahoos didn’t tell him, did you? Balls!” He let out a frustrated huff.

Sam and Dean could hear the man cursing under his breath. They both remained quiet.

“Now, why don’t you start from the beginning so we can get our stories straight. It might help me figure out if this thing’s gonna bite you in the ass or not.”

Dean looked down at Sam. His brother was quiet and subdued. Something had gone on in that shop that had scared him, what with the way he came running out that door, and he didn’t want to talk about it. _I should have known something was up._ Dean could kick himself for having not questioned him on it. “Sammy…,” he prodded softly enough that Bobby couldn’t hear.

“I’m waiting here, boys. Unless you’re gonna start paying my phone bill, someone might wanna get talkin’.”

Sam gave in and answered the man. “Well, uh, the Wu was in the back getting your book when I sorta knocked it off a shelf.” Sam wasn’t going to bring up why. Their argument had to do with _them_ and Bobby didn’t know about him and Dean (not that they knew of anyway). “When it hit the floor, it broke. And then we heard him coming back.” He swallowed. “We might’ve panicked and stuffed the pieces in our pockets to hide what happened. It was stupid, I know; I’m not even sure why we did it.”

“You two are quite the pair, aren’t you?” Bobby stated flatly, and when Sam hesitated, he said, “Well, go on.”

Sam took a breath and glanced up at Dean before he continued. “And then Dean went to go wait outside while I paid for your book. The Wu stopped me as I was leaving, said he knew what happened.”

“Alright, so he knew you broke it. What’d you say to that?”

“I just told him I was sorry, offered to pay for it, you know, but he refused to take anything.”

“And..? What are you leaving out, Sam? I don’t have to be there to know there’s a big gaping hole in your little story. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the details.”

 _Fuck._ Bobby was going to keep pushing. Sam closed his eyes for a brief moment and sighed; Dean was going to kill him for not telling him everything that had transpired back in that small shop. He had talked himself out of thinking it was anything more than the guy messing with his head. _Just another “fuck-up-by-Sam-Winchester”._

“He told me to keep it, and then he said something about fixing what was broken before it could be made whole again…that it would come with a price.” Dean’s grip tightened almost painfully on Sam’s shoulder as he continued to recount the conversation from the store. The younger hunter grimaced and rolled his shoulder, trying to get the man to let up a little. When Dean did, his hand fell away and he walked over to the window without so much as a word. Yeah, his brother wasn’t too happy. Sam kept his eyes averted from the man as he gave Bobby the last little bit of information. “He may have said something about a journey and that there’s lots to learn-” Sam tugged at the collar of his t-shirt and cleared his throat. “-especially those things that involve the heart.”

Dean’s eyes darted over to Sam at those final words. He looked from Sam to the hawk and wolf on the table and then back to his brother. Sam had taken it upon himself to decide that what had happened at that shop was no big deal. _Goddammit, Sammy_. He should have said something instead of hiding it. What the hell had he been thinking?

“But Bobby,” Sam was still talking, “I thought he was just messin’ with me because he thought I was a tourist. You know how these people are, taking advantage of people like that. I didn’t know…”

“Use that big brain of yours, son. Do you think any old tourist would pop in asking for the book you went there to get? It’s a damn Necronomicon. Did you even bother to look at it?”

Sam was silent. In all the flurry earlier, that one simple fact had escaped him. _Shit._

Bobby didn’t say anything for a few minutes as he gave himself time to absorb everything Sam had just told him, and then, “Alright now. We’ll put it all down to you two just having a bad day because I know you boys have been able to deal with everything Heaven and Hell have both thrown at you over the years. Let’s take a step back for a minute and think about this rationally before we all go jumpin’ to too many conclusions.

“First off, you have to keep in mind that we’re not sure he even did something to you, right? So that there’s a plus. But if he did do something, we need to figure out what.

“Now, you seem to be taking what he said rather literally, like he was talking _just_ about that figurine, at least the first part anyway. Was anything else going on while you were in there that he may _know_ about? I know how you two are, always bitchin’ at each other about something for some stupid reason. Maybe one of you said something about a hunt that he overheard?”

Sam quickly ran over everything he and Dean had said in the store, everything that had happened: Dean commenting on the zodiac signs, him getting pissed at Dean, and then the ensuing argument that had led to him bumping into that damn shelf. _Oh, crap._ Was the Wu talking about him and Dean…that whole thing about matters of the heart, fixing things that were broken? There was no way the man didn’t hear them yelling at each other in there.

Suddenly, it all made perfect sense…and Bobby couldn’t help them. If what the shaman had said was going to come to pass, and it wasn’t just some practical joke to get even with them because of their stupidity, this was all on him and Dean. It was probably going to be one of the toughest jobs they’d ever had. Being who they were, and with their history of poor communication (and that was putting it _very_ mildly), fixing them was going to be next to impossible. Sam risked a glance at Dean who was still standing by the window and then said, “No. Nothing that I can think of.”

“Well, since your well of information seems to be runnin’ dry, I’m gonna go see what I can dig up on this. You best watch yourselves in the meantime, just in case he really _did_ do something; we still don’t know for sure. You could be right, Sam; he might have just been tryin’ to scare you boys for what you did. – I still can’t believe you two idjits, pissin’ off a shaman like that… What next? – I’ll be in touch later. Oh, and if you happen to go back to try and beg for his forgiveness, don’t go playin’ ‘bull in a China shop’ again, you hear me?”

Sam smiled. Bobby sure had a way with words, even when he was scolding them. “Yeah, I got it, Bobby.”

They said their goodbyes and the line disconnected.

Sam rested his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. He hadn’t shaved after his shower and he could feel the rasp of stubble on his palms. _This is all my fault; I did this,_ he thought to himself. _If I hadn’t started that stupid fight…_ He was startled from his thoughts when Dean began his tirade; he’d waited in line long enough. It was inevitable that this was coming.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me what happened in there, Sam?” Dean started to pace; he usually did that when he was trying to keep his temper in check, said it helped keep him calm. ( _Yeah, right. Like a damn bear-stung-by-a-bee calm_.) After several short laps, he walked over to the counter and grabbed the whiskey. He unscrewed the cap and took a long pull directly from the bottle. “Maybe we could’ve gone back in and fixed this while we were still outside his front door. Dammit, Sam!” Dean slammed the bottle down on the counter.

“Dean, I’m sorry-” Sam looked up at the man and paled when he saw the angry glare in his brother’s eyes. Dean’s jaw was clenched; the muscle in his cheek twitched. His brother didn’t like it when Sam kept things from him. It was one of those buttons the younger Winchester tried not to push too much, but more often than not, he found himself doing it anyway.

“No, Sam. It’s too late for that now,” Dean said as he sat down on the corner of the bed and began pulling his boots on. “I’m going out. I need to clear my head or something.”

“Dean-” Sam jumped as the door slammed shut on him, cutting off his plea. That right there was exactly why he knew this problem was going to be so difficult to fix, that’s if there really was a problem in the first place; there was just no way to know for sure, not unless they went back to talk to the Wu. Sam still crossed his fingers that they were all fretting over nothing. But he had a gut feeling about this…and it didn’t feel good.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Needless to say, the waterbed didn’t see any action that night.

Dean came back so late that it was nearly morning; the smell of alcohol was ripe on his breath. When he finally managed to climb into bed, Sam had to fight from rolling right into him as the water shifted to accommodate the man’s weight.

Sleeping in a waterbed certainly had its benefits when you wanted to be close to the other person in it, but it sucked out loud when you didn’t want to be on top of each other. As the water settled, it was Dean who had to fight off being sucked down into Sam’s space because the younger man was the heavier of the two of them. _Sam and his gigantor body,_ Dean thought, perhaps more than a little drunkenly. Finally, he just gave up and settled in against his brother’s side; he was too tired to really give a damn. A moment later, Dean felt a strong arm wrap around him.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The next morning, Dean went down to the office to reserve the room for an additional night. It looked like they were going to be making a trip back to Chinatown today and they didn’t have another hunt lined up yet, so it made sense to stick around.

After that was taken care of, he took Baby out for a long drive to simply gather his thoughts. (He had meant to do that the previous night, but all he ended up gathering were the makings for one badass headache this morning…but he _did_ make a few bucks in several hands of poker, so it wasn’t a complete loss.) Sam was still sleeping when he had grabbed his keys and jacket. He couldn’t remember, but Dean was sure the man had been waiting up for him when he got back last night (or was it this morning?).

While out on the road, Dean had the bright idea of heading back to Chinatown on his own. Maybe he could talk some sense into the Wu. _Why not?_ He’d already grabbed the two pieces of the figurine off the table and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket for safe-keeping; he didn’t want them getting lost. – Oh, hell, who was he kidding? In the back of his mind he knew he’d be going back to that damn shop this morning.

Less than an hour later, Dean was standing outside an empty storefront. You’d never even know anyone had occupied the space less than a day ago. After cupping his hands over the window and peering inside, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking and then kneeled down to pick the lock on the door. It took less than five minutes to see that the place was completely vacant.

Dean leaned back against a wall and slid down to sit on the floor, wrists resting on bent knees, hands hanging limply in front of him. _This just keeps getting better and better_ , he thought in resignation. Dean didn’t know what to do. It was starting to look like he and Sam were just going to have to ride the storm out.

His phone rang, snapping Dean from the disturbing thoughts running through his head, thoughts of all the things that _could_ happen.

It was Sam. _Of course_. His brother was probably worried about him. He hadn’t left a note, nor did he inform him in any way that he was coming back here.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean still hadn’t told Sam where he was when he had called looking for him. He figured it would be best to wait until he returned to the room before he broke the crappy news to him. If Sam was going to have any kind of “freak out” episode, Dean wanted to be there for him. No sense on being angry with him anymore. Dean should have never left his brother in that store all alone with the shaman; he was just as much to blame for their current predicament. They’d get through this and move on. It was just one more thing in their fucked up lives.

The door to their room opened before Dean even had the engine turned off. Sam leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed into a thin line. He never liked it when Dean took off like that. There were a million and one reasons why, not the least of which was that, at any given time, something was usually hunting them, too.

When the elder Winchester got out of the car and closed the door, Sam said, “You went back there, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean just stood there. _Wow, the kid was good._ He nodded after a moment. There was nothing to hide at this point in time. “Yeah, Sam, I did.”

“And?”

“Nothing’s there. The shop’s completely empty. He’s gone.”

Sam slumped, the look of defeat and dread clouded his eyes.

“Come on, Sam.” Dean walked up to the doorway once he made sure the car was locked up tight. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We’ll get through this. Nothing we can do now anyway, not until something happens.” He gently guided his brother back into the room and steered him toward the bed. “Get yourself comfortable. Neither of us got much sleep last night. The room’s booked for another day, so there’s no rush to leave.”

Dean kicked his boots off and stripped out of his shirt, jeans, and socks. Sam mirrored him and they both climbed back into bed. Within minutes, they were asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam awoke to firm, open-mouthed kisses being pressed along his collarbone. Whatever hour it was, he could see it was still daylight. He let out a soft gasp as a hand smoothed over his groin and rubbed through his boxers; he felt things start to stir down below. There was no way he could deny Dean once things got started, and Sam considered this already begun. “Dean… God.” He rocked up into the touch.

“Shhh.”

Sam felt Dean’s fingers tuck under his waistband and he canted his hips upward so his brother could pull his boxers down. Once they made it to his knees, Sam toed them off and tossed them to the floor beside the bed. He was immediately made aware of the fact that Dean was already completely naked when the man rolled on top of him, his need pressing hotly into Sam’s thigh.

There was the _snap_ of a cap and Sam knew it for what it was. He shifted his legs apart and gave Dean all the access he needed.

“I love you, Sam.” Dean nipped at the skin just below Sam’s ear and then nuzzled into his neck. “I just wanna do this real slow, take our time. We haven’t done it like this in a while.”

Dean made sure Sam was fully prepped before pulling his fingers out and taking him. He pressed in, one agonizing inch at a time, and then shifted back, moving almost too slow, even for himself. He groaned. “Jesus, Sammy…”

Sam enjoyed the slow-paced encounter, but it also drove him insane at the same time. He couldn’t help but dig his fingers into Dean’s hips and attempt to draw him forward to speed things up. But Dean wouldn’t give in; his brother was in control and all Sam could do was throw his head back into the pillow and make the most incomprehensible and embarrassing sounds as Dean took him. Sam’s eyes nearly rolled up into his head when the man pushed back in, grazing his sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Dean. You’re driving me crazy here.”

“That’s the whole point,” Dean replied with a grin as he leaned down and kissed Sam gently. “Just lay back and let me do my thing. I’ll get you there. I’ve always got your back.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Later that evening, Dean was lying in bed, head propped up on a pillow, with Sam tucked neatly into his side. (He gave up long ago trying to figure out how his giant of a brother managed to make himself so small.) They kept things low-key for the rest of the afternoon. Sam had attempted to do some research on the figurine, see if he could find something Bobby hadn’t, and also read up a little on Buddhist lore while he was at it. Dean, on the other hand, went through and cleaned their guns and made sure their weapons cache was ready for their next hunt. They ate grinders for lunch and tacos for dinner.

Sam had come up with zilch on the internet; the carving appeared to be a one-of-a-kind item and there was nothing posted anywhere about it. (But he _did_ know a lot more about Buddhism than he had ever cared to know.) When he closed the laptop, he found himself at just as much of a loss as when he had started.

After finding jack squat on the figure, Sam had finally accepted that they were going to have to go about this the hard way and he needed to get his brother into the game. He moved a little under the blankets and peered up at the man. “Dean…”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“I think I might know how to get out of this, I mean, that’s if there’s something to get out of in the first place.” He traced his thumb over Dean’s right nipple, watching it tighten and come to a peak.

Dean shifted and dipped his chin down to his chest so he could look at Sam. He had been feathering his fingers lightly across Sam’s shoulder, going over their latest hunt in his head, thinking of how they could have done things differently. “And what’s that?”

“It’s us. I’m pretty sure the Wu was talking about us, Dean. We need to fix ‘this’.”

The elder Winchester pulled out from under Sam and sat up. Sam just rolled onto his back, body moving up and down from Dean’s sudden movement.

“Fix us? Sam, we’re not broken. I mean, we have our bad days like anyone else, but we’re good. Aren’t we?” Dean asked the question a little unsteadily. His brow creased as he stared down at his brother, thinking about their last two years. They had both gone into this knowing it wasn’t the norm, that it was going to be difficult (especially with the way they still continued to bicker like the siblings they were on a daily basis), but they had _both_ wanted this…or so he thought.

“Dean-” Sam started, but was cut off.

“Dammit! I knew you still had issues with the ‘us’ thing. Fuck, Sammy!” Dean sat forward and ran a hand over his face and up through his short hair. If Sam had been doing this just for him… He stared at the wall in front of him and tried to get his breathing under control.

Sam jolted up and turned to face his brother; his heart was pounding behind his ribs. Goddammit! Dean still thought he had a problem with this? It had been two goddamn years now. “Dean, that so is not true, and you know it! See… _this_ is what needs to be fixed…our doubts, our lies. We’re not honest with each other; we both know that. We hide things from each other all the damn time. We take things for granted, don’t appreciate each other. And somehow the Wu figured that all out, or at least enough of it. I don’t know why he felt he needed to intervene, but he did. Maybe if we start treating each other like we actually _do_ love each other, then this spell, curse – or whatever – can be broken or prevented.”

Dean flinched when Sam’s hand came down and rested on his thigh. He slowly turned his head to look at him. “You’re sure?” His eyes were pleading. If he lost Sam after everything they’d been through…

“About which part?” Sam asked cautiously.

“The _us_ part.”

“Dean, I thought we went over all that when we started this thing. Yes, I’m sure; I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my entire life. I’ve already told you that. Stop doubting me.” He slipped out from under the covers and glided over the man’s lap, straddling him. Taking his brother’s face between his large hands, he stared into Dean’s crystalline green eyes for a moment and then leaned forward to kiss him. When he pulled back, he smiled. “I love you and I want this. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The next day Sam found a job. An old hotel was being renovated and a couple of the workers had claimed to have seen a ghost. One guy swore he had been pushed down a flight of stairs by it; another said he saw it happen. There were other things, too, but that was the only incident with a witness besides the victim. They packed their bags and headed southwest to a small town near Kansas City.

The brothers spent five days working on that hunt. During that time, Sam found out what it was like to get his ass kicked by the ghost of a pissed off young woman (like he’d never had that happen before). Her story: her cheating fiancé had killed her and buried her remains under the wine cellar floor. They dug her bones up and salt-and-burned her.

After that, Dean found them a job that took them to Kearney, Nebraska. It was demons this time, four of them to be exact. Dean got a sprained wrist and a nice gash along his side; and Sam a large egg on the back of his head. But they were able to take the Hellspawn down with the demon-killing knife before anything worse could happen. That job sucked as far as Dean was concerned. Demons always sucked.

“Dude, time for a vacation,” Dean said as he sat on the bed, nursing his wrist with an ice pack. “And don’t we still need to get to Bobby’s so we can give him that book?”

Sam was in the bathroom trying to get the lid off the bottle of ibuprofen. He was barely paying any attention to Dean; his head was killing him. “Yeah,” he agreed, not sure what he was actually agreeing to. “Dude, these child-proof bottles-” The lid popped off unexpectedly and the pills scattered across the counter. “Shit.”

Dean was at Sam’s shoulder a second later. “Go lay down, Sam. I’ll get this for you.”

Sam nodded groggily and somehow managed to walk the dozen or so steps to the bed and dropped down onto it. One day he was going to have to get an MRI to see how bad his head really was after the few hundred concussions he’d had over the years. It seemed liked he was always getting his head slammed into one wall or another, that’s if he wasn’t being choked to death.

Pills taken, Sam scooted up against the headboard and watched Dean head back into the bathroom to get some more water. “You’re gonna need stitches for that.” He could see the blood seeping through Dean’s navy blue t-shirt; his brother couldn’t hide the dark stain blooming through the thin material.

“I’m fine, Sam. Don’t worry about it.”

That was a complete an utter lie. Even in Sam’s current state, he knew that. So, Dean had made the decision for them.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Several days ago, while they were still on the job in Missouri, Dean blew up. “Sam, how long are we gonna have to watch every word that comes out of our mouths? How about what goes on in our heads?” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “ _Normal_ relationships aren’t perfect; people fight, they lie. It’s all part of being human. Really, I don’t know how long I can keep this up.” He was standing in the middle of the room in his slacks and shoes (they had gotten back from the Town Hall not too long ago); a beer was in his hand and Sam was surprised that with all of the hand gesturing it hadn’t spilled over onto the floor yet.

Sam knew this was difficult for his brother. Hell, even he was having a hard time with it. They had decided to try to be the perfect couple – no deception, no bad thoughts about each other, no fights – and it was like trying to keep a wild beast locked inside a cage. But by doing so, they hoped to hold off the possible curse until they, including Bobby, could figure out what was going on.

“Bobby’s still trying to track the Wu down. He says he’s got everyone he knows looking for him.”

“And what about us in the meantime? We can’t wait forever. I hate to say it, Sam, but I can’t keep acting like Mr. Perfect here.” Dean dropped down into a chair at the table. He was mentally exhausted from thinking before he spoke, and thinking before he thought. (That made sense to him, even if it didn’t to anyone else.) “I think we ought to just take our chances, otherwise we’re going to go crazy looking over our shoulder every time we slip up.”

“Seriously?” Sam looked up from unbuttoning his dress shirt and shook his bangs out of his face. “You really wanna do that?”

“Look, we’re not positive he actually cursed us, right? And are you telling me that you’ve been _one hundred percent_ honest with me about everything in the last week and a half, that you haven’t mother-fucked me at some point in your head? Come on, Sam, I know you.”

Sam looked a bit sheepish and squirmed under Dean’s scrutiny.

“Ha! See, I knew it!” He sat forward and slapped a hand down on the table. “And nothing’s happened, right?”

“You may have a point,” Sam conceded. “But are you sure you want to test your theory out on a permanent basis? What if something actually does happen?”

Dean shrugged and toed off his shoes. His feet were killing him. “After all the shit we’ve dealt with, I think we can handle whatever that little Munchkin dude may have thrown at us.”

Sam blew out a breath. Dean was right. They _didn’t_ know for sure if something was going to happen, and if something did, they weren’t exactly amateurs. “It’s your call. I’ll do whatever you wanna do. But you know what?”

“What?” Dean drained the bottle of beer and tossed it into the garbage can from four feet away.

“You’re one crazy son of a bitch sometimes, you know that?” Sam smiled, relaxing for what felt like the first time since he had run out of that shop.

“But you still love me.” Dean waggled an eyebrow at his brother as he got up and started to unfasten his pants. He wanted to get back into his jeans before they returned to the hotel later to finish off this job. That bitch ghost was gonna fry. “Well, let’s not make any split second decisions. Let’s think about it and revisit the subject once we get this hunt in the bag and get outta here.”

Sam nodded. He could work with that. It would give Bobby some more time, too. And who knew? Maybe the Wu would turn up in the meantime.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The topic hadn’t come back up. This latest hunt had started too quickly and they hadn’t had the chance to have the discussion even though it was in the back of their minds all the time. But apparently Dean had given it some thought…

Dean brought Sam a second glass of water and then he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him this time. After not hearing any water running, nor any other sound for at least twenty minutes, Sam called out. “Dean, y’okay in there?”

“Yeah, Sammy. I’m- Shit! Fuck!” Dean hissed.

Sam was up and out of bed as fast as he could go in his current condition. He opened the bathroom door without knocking and saw Dean sitting on the closed toilet trying to stitch his side up.

“Dammit, Dean.” Sam stepped into the small room. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but it looked like his brother had gotten into a full-on boxing match with one of the demons. His lower lip was busted and swollen and his right eye was puffy; blood trailed down his cheek from a cut on his forehead, too. “I guess this confirms it.”

“What?” Dean looked up, bloody needle in his hand.

“You’ve decided.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged almost guiltily.

Sam reached down and gently pried the needle from Dean’s fingers. “Let me do this.” Dean had been stitching with his left hand because it was his right wrist that was sprained. The joint was so swollen, he could hardly bend it. Even concussed, Sam would do a better job than his brother.

The wound was a good three inches long and passed over Dean’s left kidney. “I’m okay with it, you know,” Sam said after a few minutes. He was squatting down next to Dean, methodically stitching the hole in the man’s side, breath steady. “I told you I was.”

Dean’s muscles twitched under the pinch of the needle, but he didn’t do more than clench his teeth and grunt. Between the two of them, they must have had thousands of stitches over the years, most of which they’d sewn themselves.

When he was done, Sam swabbed off the excess blood and taped gauze over his work – fourteen stitches in all. He cleaned up Dean’s face the best he could and then packed up the first aid kit. “Let’s get some rest; it’s been a long day. Maybe tomorrow we can head up to Bobby’s. You’re gonna need some downtime with that wrist…and don’t argue with me now that you feel you’re free to.”

Dean bit back any snide remarks and nodded silently. The day had worn him out; he just didn’t have it in him. His wrist did hurt something fierce, enough that he thought about the possibility of a fracture, although he’d never admit that to Sam.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

It wasn’t a long ride to Sioux Falls from where they were, maybe five or so hours (six if you counted pit stops), so the two slept late the next morning. And they nearly missed check-out which was at eleven as a result of it.

Any other day, Dean would have chucked a pillow at Sam to wake him up, but the man was recovering from a probable concussion and he didn’t want to risk it, even with something as soft as a pillow. Instead, he smacked Sam’s foot as he walked by the bed, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. That’s all they had time for this morning; the clock on the nightstand read ten-forty. “Rise and shine, Sammy.”

Sam grumbled and pulled the blankets up over his head. “Don’ wanna g’ up...,” his muffled voice came out from under the covers.

“We’ve got twenty minutes to turn in the key, dude,” Dean called back out of the bathroom. “You’re gonna at least brush your teeth because I’m not ridin’ with your bad breath all the way to Bobby’s. It’s hard enough with you being so gassy.”

It took a minute for the words to settle in, but Sam managed to get himself into a sitting position (sort of), smoothing his hair flat as he did, and then scratched absently at his bare chest. “Did we really sleep that late?” His voice was thick with sleep and he yawned. Sam was usually the early bird; apparently not so this morning. Dean didn’t answer his question. Instead, Sam heard him spit into the sink as he finished brushing his teeth.

The younger hunter’s head still hurt. He glanced over at the nightstand and saw two white pills sitting next to the glass of water from last night. Dean must’ve left them out for him because he knew Sam would need them at some point. He tossed the pills back and washed them down with the water.

Somehow, less than twenty minutes later they were on the road, both a bit rough around the edges, but good enough.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The sky was threatening to open up when they finally arrived in Sioux Falls that evening. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the air smelled of ozone. Bobby quickly came down to greet them in the driveway before the rain started. It was later than expected, but they’d stopped off twice for food and once, unexpectedly, because Sam was feeling sick.

The car ride, mixed with Sam’s head injury, had made the younger Winchester feel more than a little woozy. _He must have hit his head harder than he let on,_ Dean thought when he had stood in line at a grocery store, having stopped to pick up a package of saltines for his brother. Sam felt a little better after that and hadn’t complained since.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean said as he got out of the car and closed the door behind him. He glanced up at the ominous clouds.

“Dean.” And then Bobby looked over at Sam as the younger man climbed out of the car. “Sam.” He took in the whole picture. “Geez, you both look like shit. What the hell happened to you two?”

“Demons,” was Sam’s one-word reply.

A large rain drop fell and burst on the trunk lid, followed by another in quick succession.

“Aw, hell,” Bobby griped about the rain. “Go on inside,” he said to Sam who looked like he was about to keel over. “I’ll help your brother get your things.”

“No, I can-”

“Go on, Sam,” Dean cut him off. “Until you can stand fully upright on your own, you’re not doing anything.”

Sam rolled his eyes and, without another word, turned to go inside.

“You two alright?” Bobby asked as he helped Dean with their bags.

“We’re good. This last job just beat us up a bit. And Sam banged his head again.”

Dean was just closing the trunk when the downpour began. He and Bobby ran to the porch as quickly as they could under the weight of the bags.

“You couldn’t drive a little faster?” Bobby hollered at Dean as they stumbled up the steps. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, thunder following loudly in its wake.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Glasses perched on the end of his nose, Bobby sat at his desk inspecting the two pieces of the figurine. After several minutes of concentrating in silence, he looked up at the brothers.

“Well, you got me. Has anything happened since your little encounter?”

“Nope,” was Dean’s reply. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning up against the wall with a coffee in his hand.

Sam was sprawled out on the couch, resting with his forearm draped over his eyes. He’d taken some prescription grade pills this last time around; they were finally kicking in. “We decided to assume nothing’s gonna happen,” he said.

Bobby mulled that over. “Can’t say as I blame you. It’s been what, three and a half weeks? Maybe you were right, Sam. Maybe the guy was just yanking your chain, scarin’ you for not being honest about what you did. I guess we don’t have much of a choice either. That damn Wu seems to have disappeared off the map.” He stood up and stretched. “I need to catch some shuteye. Unfortunately, I’m not as young as I used to be. Make yourselves at home. You know the drill.”

The brothers said their goodnights to the man as he disappeared around the corner and went upstairs.

“Dude, you okay over there?” Dean asked, a bit concerned that Sam was still feeling the effects of the concussion.

“I just think I need to get some good sleep, is all. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.” Sam sat up and looked over at Dean. The man looked pretty beat himself. Aside from his wrist, a bruise was forming high on his right cheekbone and around his eye, and his split lip was scabbed over. And if Sam didn’t know any better, he’d think his brother was hiding a slight limp as well.

They both enjoyed Bobby’s company and staying at his place, but that meant sleeping in separate rooms and neither Winchester cared for that much. Sam and Dean were going to have to go their separate ways for the night.

Dean studied Sam and, after a pause, nodded. “Yeah, okay. But you better let me know if that headache gets any worse.”

“I will, Dean.” And then he changed the subject. “You know, I still wonder if he’s figured it out yet,” Sam said.

“Who? Bobby? About us?” Dean raised his eyebrows. He’d thought him and Sam had done a pretty good job hiding their relationship from the elder hunter so far; it’s not like they lived here.

“Yeah. You gotta admit, the man’s not blind...and he’s far from dumb.”

“Well, I sure as hell ain’t bringin’ it up. That’s an ass-kickin’ I don’t want.”

Sam frowned. “You really think he’d be like that?” He pushed up from the couch and went to Dean. He tucked his fingers into the front of the man’s waistband and tugged his brother to him.

Dean quickly glanced over to the hallway to make sure Bobby wasn’t hiding around the corner. “Yeah, I really do, Sammy,” he stuttered out under Sam’s touch. Dean’s heart rate was picking up; his breath was starting to come in short pants as his brother pushed further down into his jeans and teased his now semi-hardened dick. “God, Sam. Don’t…not now when we can’t.” He would have pulled away, but Sam held him close.

“I want you to think of me when you’re getting yourself off tonight.” Sam smiled knowingly as he spun Dean around and cupped his brother’s growing arousal. He felt the man give in and sag against him; Dean’s head dropped back against the front of Sam’s shoulder. The younger Winchester took advantage of the expanse of smooth skin that was right there, practically being offered up to him, and licked a wet trail up Dean’s jawline to that sensitive spot right below his brother’s ear. “Can you do that for me?” he whispered, words coming out velvet smooth.

Dean managed a nod and then squeaked as Sam gave him a good squeeze. “Damn you, Sammy. I’m supposed to be the one pulling this shit, not you,” he growled, but the reprimand was lost in the throaty tone of his voice. He should have known better than to let Sam near him. “One week. One week, then we’re outta here.”

Dean groaned when Sam pulled his hand free of his pants. “I’ll get you back for this, dude. Consider this ‘game on’.” He turned around and gave his brother a quick kiss. Before pulling back, Dean grasped Sam’s obvious hard-on through his jeans; there was a hidden smile in his eyes. “You’re not exactly immune to this either.” Then he smirked and took off up the stairs, taking his limp in stride. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sam groaned. Maybe fucking around with Dean hadn’t been such a good idea. His own jeans had gotten more than a bit uncomfortable in the last few minutes. The quicker he got up to bed, the quicker he could get out of them and take care of things. He was forever thankful that Bobby’s room was at the other end of the house.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The week dragged on. Dean bitched and moaned for the first few days because his wrist was taking too long to heal. The endless rain didn’t help him either; it only caused it to ache more. Bobby had, on more than one occasion, tried to get him to go to the clinic to get it checked out, but Dean, being Dean, had flat out refused. Sam’s headache subsided permanently after the second day. It was a rough start, but they settled into a routine and things calmed down. It was a good thing, too, because Bobby had just about had enough. He was a patient man, but any time a Winchester had ever been to his house (dating back to John Winchester), things got more than a little hectic.

“Dean, so help me, if you don’t quit your sissy-assed whinin’, I’m gonna summon some damn demi-god or something to keep you occupied. Why can’t you be more like your brother and go read a book? It ain’t gonna kill you, you know.”

It was the fourth day and Dean was bored; he was sexually frustrated and he was scratching at the walls. He was finally getting some normal movement in his wrist and he was pushing Sam to find a job somewhere, anywhere.

A mountain of freshly washed laundry was sitting in a basket in front of him. It had been his turn to wash their clothes and Dean was just standing there staring at the unfolded pile. He hated laundry duty. And yeah, maybe he’d been vocalizing his displeasure a little more than he should have.

“You’re like a goddamn little kid,” Bobby mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen and headed to the study. If he didn’t already know Dean was the best damn hunter out there, he’d never believe it with the way the man acted sometimes.

 _Three more days…_ Dean didn’t give a crap whether Sam found a hunt or not, they were getting out of here. He loved Bobby like a father, but being around each other for more than a couple days straight was pushing things…for all of them. Sam and Dean were meant to be on the road, not cooped up in a house. And Bobby was a solitary man; he liked his peace and quiet when he could get it.

“Sorry, Bobby,” he apologized as he began sorting through the clothes and folding them. “It’s just staying in one place-”

“I know, Dean. Don’t worry about it.”

They both looked up when they heard Sam coming down the stairs. He was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt and he had his running shoes on.

“Hey, guys. I’m going out for a run. I’ll be back later.” Even Sam was showing signs of cabin fever.

“You want some company?” Dean offered.

“Only if you can keep up.” Sam smiled knowing his brother would take the challenge.

“I’ll meet you outside in five.” The elder Winchester dropped the shirt in his hand and headed upstairs. If he was lucky, he could get Sam somewhere quiet and take care of a few certain urges.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam was doing his calisthenics and stretches outside in the driveway when Dean came out the door, dressed in his own sweats and t-shirt. He jogged down the stairs and grabbed his brother by the sleeve, pulling him along towards the back of the salvage yard.

“Dean… What-?” Sam started to ask as he stumbled, not expecting Dean to pull him off in that direction.

“Just come on,” Dean said, looking back over his shoulder at the house like he was trying to get away with something he shouldn’t be doing.

Something in Dean’s eyes told Sam they weren’t going to get much running done. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” He grinned, knowing what his brother had in mind and followed without complaint.

They were headed to the back corner of Bobby’s lot where it butted up against acres of undeveloped woodland. Dean knew for a fact that the old man never went there. When the elder Winchester was younger, he used to come out here and sit in the small patch of grass and stare up at the stars. Sam knew about the place as well because he’d joined Dean there on more than a few occasions. That was their current destination.

“I wasn’t up for much of a run,” Dean said as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Gee, I would’ve never guessed.” Sam snickered as he followed suit and tossed his shirt into the grass. Thankfully, the ground had had a chance to dry somewhat. He certainly wasn’t up for a roll in the mud.

“Just get your damn shoes and pants off before I do it for you.” Dean already had his thumbs under the waistband of his own pants and was starting to tug them down. A second later, he was standing there naked as a jay bird, sun shining brightly down on him.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam said, eying Dean as he hurried to catch up. He got his thumb stuck in his shoe as he was yanking it off his foot and he lost his balance, falling hard to the ground. Before he could sit up, Dean was on top of him. “Dude-”

“You’re taking too goddamn long, Sammy. I’ve been sitting around, trying not to stare at you for days now. Just get your pants down; I’ll take care of the rest.” Dean was already reaching under him, pulling at the soft material of Sam’s jogging pants. “I want you so bad right now. It’s all your damn fault, too, strutting around like a damn peacock or something.”

Sam snorted. “Seriously? A fucking peacock? You couldn’t come up with something better than a bird?” He lifted his hips from the ground and let Dean remove his pants. Actually, they didn’t go far, just down to his ankles, getting caught up on his shoes.

“Just shut the hell up and turn over.” Dean’s eyes were lust blown already, the green barely there anymore; his breathing was heavy. God, he couldn’t wait to sink into his brother’s tight hole. “Now,” he growled low.

 _Holy shit._ Dean wanted this bad. “I will, Dean, but first-” Sam reached up then and pulled Dean down to him, pressing his tongue into the man’s mouth. He held himself up on one elbow as he threaded the fingers of his other hand through Dean’s short hair, holding him there.

A moan was lost in the kiss as their cocks rubbed up against each other; the heat searing. Dean was holding himself up on an extended arm while he reached down and clasped their hardened flesh in his fingers and stroked them. He pulled away from the kiss and dropped his head down into the crook of Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy…” It came out on a breath.

“God, Dean… I want you in me so bad.” Sam rocked up into his brother’s tight grip and let his head fall back, eyes closing as he did. And then Dean’s hand disappeared from his aching flesh and Sam felt a soft smack on the side of his hip. When he opened his eyes, Sam saw Dean sitting up on his knees waiting for him.

“Hands and knees, Sammy.” Dean grinned.

The younger Winchester complied and resituated himself, and then he heard Dean pop the cap on the lube. “Friggin’ boy scout,” he muttered as he let his head drop and bit back a laugh. Where Dean had hidden a tube of lube…

“Well, I could’ve done it the hard way, but I thought you’d enjoy this more. - Ass up, little brother.”

Sam pushed back and wiggled his backside at Dean. “You like my ass, don’t you Dean?” All he got for that was a hard swat and he jumped.

“You know, we should really explore this spanking thing. I’m beginning to think you like it,” the elder Winchester teased a little too knowingly.

Sam was about to reply, but swallowed his words as Dean shoved two fingers into him. He hissed and pulled away, then pushed back against them as his brother started scissoring them in and out of him, the burn melting away into pleasure, while Dean’s other hand came up and rubbed soothing circles on his lower back.

“That’s it, Sammy; I got you.”

Sam’s arms almost gave out when Dean’s fingers rubbed over his prostate. “Oh, gawd,” he groaned out. And then Dean did it again. Nothing coherent came from between Sam’s lips that time.

When Dean felt Sam was ready for him, he pulled his fingers out and picked the lube up from the ground, squeezed a small amount into his hand, and then slicked himself up. He shifted, pressing the head of his cock against Sam’s slick entrance. The man tried to push back against him, but Dean held him there. “Easy, there, big guy. I’m driving.” And without any warning, he slammed home, almost pushing Sam into the ground with the force of his thrust.

Sam grunted with the impact, but oh, god, did he like it this way. He dug his fingers into the soft grass and the muscles in his arms strained as he fought to hold himself up while Dean pounded into him, keeping nothing back. “Fuck, yeah, Dean,” Sam said between clenched teeth.

Dean gripped Sam’s hips tightly in his fingers as he thrust in and out, building up to a steady rhythm. He had to concentrate on not getting off too quickly as Sam writhed beneath him. “So tight, Sammy…so good. Fuck…” He reached under Sam and took his brother’s cock in hand and began to stroke it as he continued to plunge deeply into the man’s heat. “Mine…always mine.” Sweat was pouring down Dean’s face. His shoulders and back glistened under the afternoon sun as he claimed his brother. “Almost there. Yeah.”

Sam could barely hold himself up any longer. A spark had been lit deep in his core and it began to burn and twist throughout his body. The fullness in him grew and he knew Dean was almost there. He grit his teeth as the elder Winchester picked up the pace of his strokes. “Dean…guh!” Sam lost it and came into his brother’s hand, the muscles in his ass clenching tightly around Dean’s rock hard shaft. “Fuck!” he dropped down onto his elbows, gasping for air.

Dean rocked into Sam a half dozen more times and groaned as he let go, pumping his seed into his brother. “Holy shit,” he said breathlessly as he collapsed down onto Sam, forcing him to fall down into the grass. Dean just lay there, feeling Sam breathing below him as he caught his own breath.

 * S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“Huh.” Dean broke the post-coital silence after a while.

“What?” Sam rolled over from his stomach onto his side and propped his head up on his hand.

“You ever _really_ wonder what Bobby would do if he found out?” Dean was lying on his back, staring up at the passing clouds; the clear, blue sky was in stark contrast to the dreary grey of the last few days.

“I’m not so sure I’m ready to go there with that one yet.” Sam looked a little nervous. _Was Dean really thinking of coming out to the man?_

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean forced himself to get up from the ground. His pants were already back on as were Sam’s. He reached down and threw Sam’s shirt to him and then grabbed his own. “Come on. I’m gettin’ hungry.”

After the brothers were dressed, they made their way back to the house. Three more days…that’s all, and then they’d be back on the road. No more hiding who they were.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bonus chapter for this week :)

Day number seven. Their agreed upon date finally came and Sam had a job lined up in Louisiana of all places. Dean was up for it because it meant a nice, long car ride…the open road…freedom. He had everything packed and ready to go the night before.

There was a full day’s worth of driving ahead of them and they pulled out early the next morning with Sam taking first shift at the wheel. Bobby seemed happy to be getting his peace and quiet back and the brothers were looking forward to the hunt.

From what Sam could tell, it looked like a bunyip. He wasn’t sure how one got there, but that’s the best he could figure.

“What the hell’s a bunyip?” Dean had never heard of one, but seeing that it was something different, he was all up for it. He’d had enough demons, ghosts, zombies, and whatever else to last a lifetime. It wasn’t too often they came across something new.

“Lore has it that they originated in the swamps of Australia. They’re like a hybrid mix between a bird and an alligator. They swim like frogs, but on land they walk upright and move quickly. From what I’ve read the bigger ones can get up to twelve or thirteen feet tall.”

“Hmph. Sounds promising. What’s it doing, eating people?”

“Well, five people have gone missing so far in the last couple of months, their bodies were never found. One eyewitness whose husband was a victim gave the description, but the authorities have dismissed it, saying she’s in shock.”

“Swamps of Louisiana and swampzilla… Alright.” Dean processed the information. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s corporeal, so shotgun, maybe a machete…flare guns, just in case.”

“Looks like we’ll be getting a little muddy on this one.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“Remind me to _never_ hunt one of them again,” Dean muttered as they came out of the brush, heading back to the Impala. Three days of slipping and sliding through stinky friggin’ swamps, boots full of mud, faces covered in it…yeah, not a whole hell of a lot of what Dean called fun. He’d even lost his boot at one point, getting it stuck in the mud. It was hard work getting the mud to release its unrelenting hold on the thing, and when it finally came loose, Dean fell back and landed on his ass in the foul smelling shit, which by the way, he was now covered from head to toe in. (Sam hadn’t fared much better.) He was glad when they finally burned the fugly creature's corpse.

Dean had to give the bunyip credit where it was due though. It didn’t go down without a fight. When it first came out of the water and stood up, holy shit was the thing huge! It wasn’t quite the twelve or thirteen feet that Sam had read about, but it still dwarfed the both of them like most things couldn’t. Its razor-like teeth snapped ferociously at them and its scaly flesh kept their shotguns from penetrating its skin. In the end, Sam had to distract it while Dean got a headshot in, right through the soft flesh in the back of its throat, but that was only after it swung its tail around, knocking them over like bowling pins and taking a few stinging swipes at them. Both men suffered numerous scratches from the beast’s claws. Thank god they avoided getting bitten; a limb could’ve easily been lost. Leave it to Sam to find something like that for them to hunt.

They both took their boots off and traded them out for their sneakers which were packed in the trunk. If Dean had his way, they would have stripped right there in the open and put clean clothes on rather than get the crap all over the upholstery. He knew he’d be spending hours scrubbing the seats when this was done.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The girl in the office of the motel looked Sam up and down as he walked in; his skin and clothing were covered in dried and cracking grime.

“Can I help you?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“One room with a king, please.” He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and handed it to her.

“Sure thing, Mr. Waters.” She ran his card through and handed him the receipt to sign. “Room eighteen, on the end.” The key was placed on the counter for him.

“Thanks.”

Sam went back out to the car and told Dean which room was theirs. They didn’t bother with anything but their clothing duffels for the time being. The shower had better be big enough for two because neither was willing to wait to get clean.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The standard, motel-sized shower hadn’t been quite large enough for the two of them, and Dean bitched up a storm when Sam made it in before he did.

“Dude, I’m the older brother; I’m entitled to first shower.” Dean was moping outside the bathroom door, waiting for Sam to finish up.

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam called out from under the hot spray of water. “I can’t help it if I’m younger and faster. Just give me a minute. I’m almost done.”

The elder Winchester scowled. His hair was stiff, even his damn eyebrows were crusted over with dirt. Mud was caked between his fingers and it was down the back of his friggin’ pants, too. He was sure he looked no better than Sam had, and his brother had looked like a mud monster. The only mud Dean ever wanted to see again would have to have two girls rolling around in it with string bikinis on.

Then suddenly an evil grin appeared on Dean’s face and he silently snuck into the bathroom. He’d show Sam _._ A second later, he reached over and flushed the toilet. He held his breath…

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean! Grow the fuck up!” There was a crash behind the shower curtain as Sam jumped out of the way of the scalding water.

Dean ran out of the bathroom, laughing. Sam was so gonna kick his ass, but it was worth it. _Little brother ought to figure out how to lock the bathroom door._

Not two minutes later, the water was turned off. Sam came out shortly thereafter with a towel wrapped around his waist and threw his brother bitch face #23; his shoulders were tense, but Dean thought he looked damn hot with water dripping from his hair and running in rivulets down his broad chest. “Sometimes I wonder about that title you carry around. You certainly don’t act like the big brother.”

Dean ignored him as he went into the bathroom to take his turn getting cleaned up. “You leave me any hot water?”

Sam didn’t bother answering as he leaned down and snatched his duffel from the floor.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“Let’s hit up a bar tonight,” Dean said as he pulled on his jeans. He was in a better mood now that he was clean. “I’m hungry and I could use a drink after the last few days.”

Sam, on the other hand, was still holding a little bit of a grudge for the shower incident. But he was starving and couldn’t say no to food. “Yeah, okay. There’s that place we drove by on the way in. It’s back up the road a couple miles.”

“Works for me.” Dean was easy. Food was food. And as long as the bar had a pool table (he had an itch to play the tables tonight), he was good. “Just let me finish getting dressed and then we’ll leave,” he said as he tugged his t-shirt over his head and then dug around in his bag for an overshirt.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean could tell Sam was still pissed at him when they left the room to get into the car. Before opening the Impala’s door, he looked over the roof at the man. “It was just a joke, Sam. It’s not worth ruining the whole night over it.” He reached down to unlock the door and eyed Sam with a smile as he pulled it open. “Anyway, I’m sure that brain of yours is working overtime trying to figure out how to get me back.” He winked and slid into the car, leaning across the seat to let his brother in.

Ten minutes later, Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the local bar. The place was pretty busy if they were to go by the amount of cars in the lot. The neon sign out front revealed its name to be _The 3 rd Floor. _The brothers ducked down and looked out the windshield at the building. The place only had two floors. “Huh,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, let’s go see what kind of food this joint has.” Dean got out and led the way in.

As Sam followed his brother through the front door of the bar, he decided to let the shower incident go. Dean was just being his typical self; there was no changing him.

The bar was dimly lit as was usual for the type of establishment it was. As soon as they walked through the door, they found out right away why the place was packed. There was some kind of regional pool tournament scheduled for eight o’clock according to all of the posters hanging on the walls.

Dean was like a kid in a candy shop. He spun around and looked at Sam. “Dude, I’m so in.” There was a big smile on his face.

“But Dean, did you see the entry fee? It’s two-hundred and fifty dollars,” Sam shook his head telling his brother no.

“Where’s your faith, Sammy? How many games have I lost that I didn’t mean to lose in the first place?”

The younger hunter looked between his brother and the advertisement for the event. First place came with a twenty-five hundred dollar pot, second was seven-fifty, and third was five hundred. Sam chewed on his bottom lip and contemplated the idea. Dean _was_ good. “Fine.”

Dean’s smile grew. He didn’t have the dimples Sam did, but the smile was just as contagious and Sam grinned back.

“But you better bring home at least second.”

“What, you don’t think I can get first?” Dean tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. “Ah, well, don’t worry about it, little brother. You can have the trophy when I win.” He wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders and led him to an open table in the back of the room. “Let’s get something to eat. It’s only six o’clock which means we got a couple of hours to burn.”

The waitress showed up to take their drink order and she was a cute little thing, definitely what Dean used to chase after before Sam. And Sam noticed the googly eyes his brother was making at her. After she left, he leaned over the table and looked the man directly in the eye. “Dean, you do know I _am_ right here, right?”

“What?” Dean sat back in his seat. _Personal space, dude._ “I didn’t do anything,” he defended himself as he glanced across the room to the bar where Amber went. (Yeah, he already knew her name from her nametag. It was a matter of old habits dying hard.)

“Yeah, okay. If you say so.” Sam forced himself to look down at the menu, but he kept an eye on his brother when the waitress came back with their drinks and took their food orders. Dean did better this time. It was one of the hardest things to break the man of since their relationship started, Dean’s flirting; it was hard-wired into him…and it was only with ladies.

Dean wasn’t gay by any means. He fessed up to a time or two where he experimented with men when he was younger, but it never took. Women were his _thing…_ that was until Sam came into the picture. But the damn flirting…

Sam knew Dean would never cheat on him, but he still didn’t like the attention his brother gave to the women, or the attention he received in return. Somehow, without even trying, the man continued to get phone numbers written on the backs of their receipts. “Call me,” they always said. Sam knew Dean threw every one of them out.

Amber came back a little while later with their food. Surprisingly, they had a pretty good menu. Dean got an Angus burger with onion rings piled high on it with some kind of special sauce dripping from it and fries on the side; Sam got a club sandwich with turkey, lettuce, and tomato with fries on the side.

They took their time eating because there was still plenty of time before Dean needed to head over to the tables; they still had another whole hour to kill by the time they got their food. Dean stuck with beer (no hard stuff) while he ate, not wanting to be impaired by the time the tournament started, and Sam kept to some kind of iced tea that he had taken a liking to.

After they were done and their dishes were cleared away, Dean got up and went to sign up for the night’s event. When he came back, he grabbed Sam by the hand and pulled him up out of his seat. “Come on. Let’s go outside for a while. There’s some time before things get started and I want a good luck kiss.” He glanced around the room. “I don’t think this is the kind of place that would appreciate that sort of thing.” His tongue darted out over his lips, wetting them.

Sam’s eyes drifted to his brother’s lips and that goddamn pornographic sweep of the tongue. Dean knew what he was doing, the bastard. “You sure you’ve got time? I mean, I wouldn’t want to mess up your chances of coming in first place or anything.” He smiled down at Dean, knowing once they got started it would take time for things to cool down. “It might be hard leaning over the pool table with your dick gettin’ in the way,” he snickered.

“Just get your ass outside, Hollywood.” Dean turned and led the way, giving Sam no choice but to follow.

Thank god August was finally coming to an end soon. It was still hot out, but it wasn’t as uncomfortably warm as it had been. The heavy moon lit up the parking lot; it shone off the hood of the Impala, silhouetting Dean as he turned and leaned up against the fender. They were parked near the rear of the lot, so they didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them as Sam pressed into his brother, stuffing his hands into Dean’s back pockets, pulling him close and grinding against the man.

“I have a proposition for you,” Sam whispered.

Dean looked up at Sam, question on his face. “Yeah? And what’s that?” The younger Winchester’s face was hidden in shadow; Dean couldn’t see what was in the man’s eyes.

“You win, you get to fuck me all night long. I’ll even allow for second place. You lose – that means anything third place or under – I’m gonna fuck you all night long.” Sam nuzzled into Dean’s neck and nibbled along the stubbled skin.

A soft moan escaped from Dean and he rocked up into his brother. “Sounds like I win either way,” he rasped out as he slid his hands under Sam’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Now give me my good luck kiss.”

Sam gave a final swipe of his tongue along Dean’s collarbone and worked his way up to Dean’s sinfully full lips. The hours ahead of them were going to be long if Dean made it all the way to the end of this tournament. It was going to be sheer torture.

As Sam was working his way up to Dean’s mouth, he felt something begin to twist its way through him, something not good. He pulled away from his brother, eyes wide, his breathing becoming erratic.

“Sam?”

“Dean… Fuck.” He doubled over all of a sudden. Whatever it was, it hurt.

“Sam, what is it?” Dean’s hand went to Sam’s shoulder and he spun them so his brother had the car at his back for support.

“It…hurts. Something… Guh.” He legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground.

“Sammy! Shit.” Dean was instantly on his knees at his brother’s side. “Tell me what’s wrong.” The elder Winchester was trying to keep calm, but the pained look on Sam’s face was quickly pushing him over the edge into panic.

Sam curled in on himself as that _something_ grew in its intensity. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to hold on. He groaned when Dean took him by the collar and pulled him up from the ground. The man’s hands were all over him, trying to find out what was wrong, but deep down, Sam knew this wasn’t something his brother was going to be able to fix. This was bad. And suddenly, he knew no more.

“Sam!” Dean pulled the younger man up into a sitting position; his brother was losing consciousness. “Fuckfuckfuck! No, Sammy. Hang in there, man. C’mon, Sam.”

And then something happened, something that freaked the living shit out of Dean…to the point that he stumbled back and fell on his ass right there on the hard pavement. Sam changed. Dean’s eyes were wide as it happened. Sam went from being his 6’4” brother to a…wolf…a four-legged, fucking wolf! And the wolf was completely conscious…and it was staring at Dean, growling with long, sharp fangs glistening under the moonlight.

It leapt at Dean and the hunter threw his arms up to protect himself, but the wolf didn’t attack. Instead it ran, leaving Dean too shocked to move. But that was only for a second before the hunter in Dean kicked in and he was up on his feet running after the canine. “Sammy!” That was his brother in that fur coat and he wasn’t about to just let him run away.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean tried to keep up with Sam, but his two legs couldn’t keep up with Sam’s four. Finally, he had to stop, bent over at the waist and taking in big, gulping gasps of air. He looked back over his shoulder; the bar was too far away to be seen; the pool tournament was long forgotten.

Sam was gone, off into the night somewhere, and Dean was left clueless as to what had just happened. His eyes scanned the surroundings. “Sammy.” The word left his mouth quietly, almost mournfully. “Sammy!” he yelled one last time. His voice was raw from calling his brother’s name over and over. It was no use.

He hadn’t realized it, but Dean had followed Sam off into the quiet back section of town where the road only led to swampy wilderness. “Sam, you better be okay out there.” It wasn’t the country club here, not with the critters that lived in the swamps, alligators being the one thing in particular that came to mind.

The hunter was torn. He couldn’t stay out here all night long, but he didn’t want to just leave and go back to the room either, not knowing Sam was out there all alone. Dean stood there silently for a while, going over things in his head.

They hadn’t hunted any werewolves lately, so Sam couldn’t have been bitten by one. No witches either. Just that damn bunyip, and then they were at Bobby’s before that, and yet still before that only demons and a ghost. And Sam couldn’t have done something Dean didn’t know about. They’d been together all day, every day.

Dean took his phone out and dialed Bobby’s number. He was going to need help on this one.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“He what?” Bobby asked exasperatedly into the phone.

“Wolf, Bobby. Sam turned into a freakin’ wolf, you know…shaggy, brown hair, four legs, and sharp teeth...oh, and don't forget the damn tail.”

“I know what a wolf is, Dean. – You’re sayin’ he just changed and took off?”

Dean looked off into the trees. He’d been there for the last fifteen minutes and still hadn’t seen Sam. “Yeah. What the hell do I do? I don’t even know what happened.”

“And you haven’t hunted any weres lately? ‘Cause you know it’s a full moon out there tonight.”

“No, no weres. Nothing that would do this. Anyway, I already thought about it and like I said, he’s on four legs, nothing like the weres we’ve hunted.”

“Well, them purebloods can shift into the actual wolf, you know. I’ve never seen it myself, but I’ve heard of it.”

“He’s _not_ a werewolf, Bobby,” Dean practically growled.

“Alright, Dean. No need to bite my head off.” Bobby sighed. “Where are you now?”

“Out near the swamps where he disappeared into the brush.”

“Well, you can’t stay out there all night long. Get yourself back to the motel and get some rest. You’re no use to anyone if you run yourself ragged. We’ll figure out what happened and find him.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Dean said, still looking around for any sign of Sam. “God, Bobby, he was in so much pain.”

“I know, son.” Bobby empathized with Dean. He hated to see either of the boys in any kind of pain. But they all knew it came with the job. And it seemed to follow the Winchesters more than most.

A wolf howled in the distance, causing Dean to spin on his heel. _Sammy,_ was his first thought. Louisiana had its fair share of wolves, but the swamps didn’t tend to be a wolf’s natural habitat. It had to be Sam.

Bobby heard it over the line, too. “Was that-?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the room, see if I can figure something out. And I suppose get some sleep at some point. Call me if you find anything. I don’t care what time it is.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The sun was peaking up over the horizon when Sam woke up…only to find himself lying on the ground, naked as the day he was born. “What the hell?” He sat up, taking in his surroundings. Swamp. He frowned. When he racked his brain, Sam found he couldn’t remember anything since being at the bar last night with Dean.

Speaking of Dean... Where _was_ his brother? Sam got up to his feet, dusting muck and leaves off of himself, and looked around. The man was nowhere to be seen. “Dean!” he called out and waited. Nothing. _Well, I can’t just stay out here all day._ In the distance he could hear the sounds of traffic; he started walking towards it. Somehow he’d have to find some clothing before he made an appearance in civilization. Yeah, this was going to be a real treat, especially if someone got an eyeful. He couldn’t wait to get the scoop from his brother on what had happened.

An hour later, dressed in very ill-fitting clothing that he had found hanging on a clothes line, Sam was at the door to their room. The Impala was parked out front; that was a good sign.

Sam knocked on the door. “Dean!” Knowing his brother, the man would still be awake, worrying himself to death with Sam missing. There was no answer. He knocked again and waited. “Dean, man, open up.” Still nothing.

“Huh.” Sam looked down the sidewalk to the office. He was going to have to get another key.

Five minutes later, Sam let himself into the room. “Dean?” His brother wasn’t in the bed, and when Sam looked, the bathroom door was open, lights off.

Their bags were still in the room and Sam noticed the clothes that he had worn yesterday were in a pile on a chair at the table. There were no signs of a struggle or anything of that nature. _Maybe Dean had gone out to get a coffee?_

Suddenly, the screech of a bird rang out in the room, causing Sam to wheel about and look over into the corner to where the couch was. A hawk was sitting on the back of the gaudy piece of furniture. It was a beautiful bird, a red-tailed hawk if Sam remembered his raptors correctly, but how it had gotten into the room was beyond Sam. “What the…?” He lifted his brow in wonderment. What the hell had Dean been up to?

Sam went to his clothes and dug his cell out of his pocket. He dialed Dean’s number, hoping the man would answer. He frowned when his brother’s cell phone began to ring from over on the nightstand. He hadn’t noticed the device resting there before. That was the first real sign that something was wrong. Dean would never leave the room without his phone, not when Sam was missing.

Giving the bird another brief glance, Sam walked over to the small table to get Dean’s phone. If his brother had called anyone last night, Sam might be able to figure out what was going on.

He pulled up the recent calls list. The only number listed was Bobby’s (which wasn’t too much of a surprise), so he dialed it.

“Dean? You find Sam?”

“Bobby,” Sam said.

“Sam? God, you’re alright.” A relieved breath came over the phone. “We were worried sick about you, boy. When Dean called last night and said what happened-”

“What happened, Bobby? All I know is that for some reason I woke up out in the swamp this morning. I got back to the room and Dean’s gone.”

“Dean’s gone?”

“Yeah, he’s not here, but the car is, and our stuff.”

“Kree-eee-ar,” the bird cried out again, causing Sam to jump.

“What in the holy hell was that?”

“Oh, and there’s a hawk in the room. Explain that one to me.”

There was silence on Bobby’s end of the line.

“Bobby?” Sam was concerned when the man didn’t say anything. “Bobby, do you know something? What’s going on?”

“Shit. And you boys stepped in a big pile of it, too, from what it sounds like.”

“What?”

“That bird, Sam, I think that’s Dean.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He swung his head and looked over at the hawk. It lifted its wings and settled.

 _No…it couldn’t be._ Sam cautiously walked across the room towards the hawk so he wouldn’t scare it. It was bright enough in the room that when he got closer, he could see its eyes. They were all too familiar. Green…just like Dean’s. “Fuck, Bobby. What happened last night?”


	5. Chapter 5

_He had turned into a wolf?_ …Not a werewolf (thank god), but a bone fide friggin’ four-legged wolf. Sam almost dropped the phone. They had been through a lot of shit in their time – and in Sam’s case, had even swapped bodies with a pimply, allergy-ridden teenager a little less than seven months ago – but this? He could only imagine how Dean had reacted when this whole thing went down last night. _Dean…_ Sam’s eyes turned toward the hawk again.

He vaguely heard Bobby going on about something to do with the Wu because all he could do was stare at the bird which was sitting not ten feet away from him. It was preening its feathers. _Could that really be his brother?_

“Sam? Are you even listening to me, boy?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry. I just…,” he trailed off, still somewhat in shock. If he squeezed the phone any tighter, it was going to shatter in his hand.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Sam, but you two’ve dealt with worse. You boys haven’t found anything yet that can stop you, not even the devil himself.”

That was certainly true, but they had always had each other to fall back on. “But Bobby… Why…why now?” Sam was having a difficult time believing any of this was actually happening; he was stumbling over his words as he was trying to grasp the situation. “It’s been weeks, more like a month since we were in Chinatown. We should’ve been in the clear. The timing doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know, Sam. Listen, why don’t you go take a shower or get a coffee. Hell, even drink a glassful of something. Just get yourself calmed down and thinking straight. When you’re done doing that, make your way back up here. It’ll be safer for you boys at my place than out there where God only knows what might be on your asses like something usually is. But just make sure if you start feelin’ funny, you get off the road. I want you two to get here in one piece…human, bird, or wolf.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said quietly.

Bobby could tell Sam wasn’t taking this too well. He couldn’t blame the man; his brother was a damn bird for cryin’ out loud, and he’d just found out that he, himself, had shifted into a wolf the night before. “It’ll be alright, son. We’ll get through this somehow. We always do.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam showered and dressed. (He’d get something for his stomach later while on the road…after he didn’t feel like throwing up anymore.) As he packed their things into the car, he tried to figure out how he was going to go about catching and transporting the hawk; it’s not like they had a cage tucked in the trunk or anything. He still didn’t have much of a clue when he came back into the room ten minutes later.

Dean – oh, god, it hurt to think of the hawk as his brother – was sitting on the back of one of the chairs now. Sam approached him slowly, not sure how his brother was going to react. According to Bobby, Sam had been pretty wild and hadn’t acknowledged Dean at all; there was no reason to think Dean would act any different.

Sam had wrapped his arm in a towel knowing that a bird of prey could shred his arm into pieces if it wanted to. He got to within three feet of the hawk when it lifted and flew across the room, trying to land on the lamp beside the bed, only to cause it to fall over onto the floor. The bird screeched and turned around, flying back past Sam and landing once more on the back of the couch where it had been earlier; it looked more than a little ruffled.

“Dammit!” Sam cursed. _Of course, Dean would have to go and turn into something with wings._ “Dean, c’mon, man. Don’t be difficult.” After a moment of just standing in the middle of the room and having some awkward version of a staring contest with the bird, Sam came up with a plan. It wasn’t the kindest of things to do, but it was better than running all over the place like a fool trying to catch the hawk.

Sam went over to the bed and tugged the sheet free. “Sorry about this,” he apologized as he walked over to the sitting area. As expected, Dean went to take off again, but Sam was ready for him this time, throwing the material over his brother and capturing him in mid-flight. “Gotcha!”

The hawk fought and struggled under the sheet, screeching and clawing. At one point, Sam cried out as the bird lunged at him with its sharp beak and tore at his unprotected arm through the blanket. “You are so gonna pay for that, dude,” he mumbled as he glanced down and saw blood oozing out of the fresh wound.

Sam closed the sheet into something resembling a sack and pulled his belt from his waist. He fastened the length of leather around it and carried his brother out to the car. He was amazed at how light Dean was, maybe all of two pounds. But even being that small, Dean obviously still had some fight left in him. That caused Sam to smile even if there was nothing else to smile about.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Not long into the ride, Dean settled down onto the passenger seat quietly, still wrapped in the sheet. Sam had always heard birds would calm down if kept in the dark and it seemed to be holding true so far.

He was deep in thought, trying to figure out – _why now? –_ and – _how the fuck are we going to fix this_? If he thought things were bad before, they were a hell of a lot worse now. How were he and Dean supposed to fix things now? Was Sam going to turn again? Would Dean turn back into Dean? There were so many questions and no answers. The question of “ _Would he ever see Dean again?”_ loomed darkly in his mind and Sam tried his best to keep that one tucked deeply away. It hurt too much to go there.

Sam settled in and drove. He stopped off for coffee and breakfast early on, then lunch sometime late in the afternoon. Out of habit, he accidentally ordered two burgers. When he was done with his, Sam looked at the other one and then he glanced down at the blue sheet which hid Dean securely within its folds.

“Are you hungry, Dean?” _Was Dean able to understand him at all?_

The hawk had been quiet during most of the trip, but every now and then Sam could hear soft bird-like noises coming from under the thin cotton material.

He shifted in the seat and carefully began to unbuckle his belt, making sure to keep a little pressure on Dean’s back so he couldn’t go anywhere. When Sam let the sheet drop away, the hawk’s head popped out…and he could swear the bird was glaring at him. It was so Dean-like that Sam almost laughed. “Dude, you bit me, so don’t go gettin’ all evil-eyed on me.”

Sam worked the sandwich wrapper open with his other hand and pulled a small piece of meat from it. “Here, try this.” He offered the hamburger to his brother.

The hawk snapped forward, taking the morsel from his fingers and swallowed it whole. Sam repeated the process until most of the burger was gone.

“Well, I see you haven’t lost your appetite.” He allowed himself to smile. Dean tilted his head and looked up at him, watching. There was an intelligence in the steady gaze and Sam suddenly knew, without a doubt, that it _was_ his brother in there. Before, he was just going with it mostly because it’s what Bobby had said, but now…

Sam wiped his hand over his mouth; he could feel it begin to tremble. “God, this is bad, Dean. I’m not sure if I can figure this out on my own. I just wish I could hear your voice right now, you know. And then you could come up with some crazy plan that would get us out of this.”

He sat there for a while, not even realizing he wasn’t holding Dean down any longer. No, he was stroking his hand down the smooth feathers of the hawk’s back. It had nestled back down into the sheet, relaxing after its meal.

“Well, you’re not gonna like it, but I have to tie you back in there again. I promise when we get a room later, I’ll let you out.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam drove until he started to feel a sense of uneasiness gnawing at his core. Something told him to get off the highway and find a room as soon as possible. He wasn’t positive about what it was, but he had a pretty good idea.

He made quick work of finding a motel and getting checked in. After bringing only the necessities into the room, Sam carried Dean inside and set him down on the table. He pulled the belt free, allowing the hawk its promised freedom. His brother eyed him warily before leaping up and drifting down onto the bed. (Sam couldn’t blame Dean for not trusting him at the moment. It had been a bit of a wrestling match getting the bird back inside the sheet within the limited confines of the Impala; the younger Winchester had several new wounds to show for it.)

Sam made a very brief call to Bobby to let him know where they were; there were still some seven hours to go before they made it to Sioux Falls. He didn’t mention the ache that was growing deep within himself; he hoped the man couldn’t hear the strain in his voice. Sam didn’t want Bobby worrying any more than he probably already was.

Since getting off the phone, the pain had gotten exponentially worse. Not far from where the hawk was perched, Sam was now lying on his side on the bed, arms clutched around himself and he was gritting his teeth in agony.

The ache suddenly intensified, ripping through him from head to toe, causing him to cry out. He curled up tightly into the fetal position and willed it to go away. Somewhere in the distance, Sam heard the hawk scream. The young hunter managed to open his eyes for a moment and saw Dean try to fly across the room. He didn’t make it far before he fell to the floor, screeching. _Oh, god, we’re both dying_ , was Sam’s final thought as he blacked out.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean scratched at his bare chest and opened his eyes slowly. His body was stiff and sore and he found out why a minute later; he had been sleeping on the floor of the motel room. _How the hell did I get down here?_ When he sat up, he realized he wasn’t in the same room as before.

The hunter climbed up to his feet. He was stark naked, but it didn’t bother him too much. (Half the time he slept in the nude anyway, so it was nothing new.) He spied his and Sam’s things on the table and couch. _Sam_... The last thing he knew was that Sam was missing, Bobby was trying to find out what was going on, and he had finally broken down and had gone to sleep. Something had obviously happened since then.

That was when Dean noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look at the bed and saw a Sam-sized lump under the comforter. “Sammy?” There was no answer. “Sam, hey. What’s going on?” Dean reached over and pulled the blanket down, only to jump away when he saw what was there. “Christ!”

Lying there under the covers was the wolf. _Sam_. One hazel eye opened lazily and peered up at Dean, but the animal didn’t do anything, didn’t make to run or attack. The hunter’s brow furrowed. Sam was back (at least in lupine form) and they were in a different motel. Had Sam changed back? And why couldn’t Dean remember shit about it?

Dean went over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The Impala was sitting there, lit up under the exterior lights of the building. He could tell by the stretch of pines across the road that they weren’t in Louisiana anymore.

The elder Winchester looked back over his shoulder at the wolf. It was curled up sleeping again, not a care in the world. “Sam, what’s going on here?” Dean said more to himself than the animal as he walked over to the table. The small placard on it said they were at the Pine View Loft Motel in Lamar, Missouri. “Where were you taking us?”

Dean saw a rumpled sheet lying on the table. A small blood stain caught his attention and he began to unfold it carefully, not sure what he was going to find. As Dean opened the sheet up, he found feathers. _What the hell?_ Had Sam hit a bird with the Impala? _If he fucked up my car…_ As far as Dean could tell, there was no bird in the room.

He looked over to the bed again when he heard the wolf making soft whimpering noises in its sleep. His brother was probably dreaming. Even in this form, Sam couldn’t break loose from his nightmares apparently. Instinctively, Dean was at Sam’s side. When he got there, he stopped, not sure what the animal – his brother – was going to do if he touched him. Very slowly, Dean lowered his hand to the animal’s fur. It was soft under his fingers and he attempted to soothe Sam by petting him. _Yeah, if this isn’t weird._ It seemed to work though. The wolf settled back into a quiet sleep.

Dean sat there for a while, hand resting on his brother as his shoulders rose up and down steadily with every breath. Being deep in thought about the events of the last day, Dean didn’t notice when the wolf awoke. Suddenly, he found himself staring into the intense green, brown, and gold-flecked eyes of his brother, the wolf. There was a wildness there, but it was still Sam.

Dean lifted his hand almost instantly, feeling like he was invading the animal’s space, but the wolf shifted and rested its head on the hunter’s leg, nuzzling its cold, wet nose against Dean’s side and reminding the man all too well that he was still undressed…and those sharp teeth were inches away from his important bits. But he didn’t move. Sam was acknowledging him in some way and he wasn’t going to lose this moment.

“Sammy.” The elder Winchester tentatively brought his hand back down to the wolf’s back and let his fingers sink into the thick fur. _This is so un-fucking-believable,_ Dean thought as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I wish you could tell me what’s going on, little brother, because I have no idea.”

Sam seemed to fall back to sleep a little while later and Dean figured it was a good time to get up and get dressed; he felt too vulnerable in the nude. And he wanted to give Bobby a call, see if the man had found out anything since last night. He also wanted to know if Sam had gotten in touch with him while he was _Sam._

“Sam?” Bobby answered. _Well, that answers the question about whether Sam had talked to the man or not._ It was the only reason Bobby would be expecting Sam to be calling from Dean’s phone.

“No, Bobby, it’s me.”

“Dean? Thank god, son. Are you okay?”

“It’s clearly been an interesting last twenty-four hours, to say the least, but yeah, I’m good.”

“How’s your brother?”

Dean looked over at the wolf which was now stretched out across the bed. “He seems to be okay.”

“So things are back to normal?”

“If you call Sam having four legs normal, then yeah. Bobby, what the hell’s going on? I can’t remember bupkis since I went to bed last night and now we’re in Missouri. I know I didn’t drive us here, so Sam must’ve been _Sam_ at some point. And obviously, he called you. Did you two figure something out?”

“Well, he called me this morning, said he woke up out in the swamp. Couldn’t recall a damn thing either. He sounded fine aside from being a little beside himself, but there’s no blamin’ him for that. He was looking for you.” Bobby paused, and then, “You really don’t remember anything?”

 _Oh, crap_. This couldn’t be good. “What happened, Bobby?”

“It’s the Wu’s curse, Dean.”

The feathers in the sheet were starting to make sense now. “Fuck. Let me guess…I was going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs all day.”

“Bingo.”

Dean absently began to pace the room. He rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to calm himself down. He was the older brother here; he had to hold it together for the both of them.

“I thought it was a good idea for you two to head back up here. That’s why Sam’s got you in Missouri,” Bobby continued. “I’ve put another APB out on that Wu, but when I talked to your brother, I told him to start thinking long and hard about what it was that shaman said. I know if he tries, he’ll figure something out, being as smart as he is. I’m still not sure how honest your brother was when he was telling me what happened at that store. Is there something else I should know about?”

Dean thought about what Sam had said about fixing them; there was no way he was going there with the man on the phone. “Sorry, can’t help you on that one. I heard the same story he told you.” He finally stopped pacing and took a seat in a chair at the table, pushing the bunched-up sheet a little farther away from himself. He didn’t need the reminder of what had apparently happened. “Why now? It’s been over a month?”

“Sam asked me the same thing. The more I keep thinking about it, the more I’m putting my money on the full moon. It’s too coincidental for it not to be.”

“But it’s not the first full moon since we were in Chinatown. Nothing happened last time around.”

“I don’t know, Dean; the Buddhist religion is a complicated one. I assure you, I’m doin’ what I can for you boys.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean sighed and stretched his long legs out under the table in front of him. “I guess I should probably get us packed up and finish the trip there. Let’s just hope I don’t turn into Tweety Bird while I’m driving. Don’t know how I’d explain that to the cops.” He smiled at the thought. But in all seriousness, it was dangerous, not knowing when to expect the change. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” the old hunter deadpanned. “Now Dean, just like I told Sam earlier, be careful driving. If anything starts feelin’ outta sorts, get that car pulled over. – Oh, and one more thing. How is Sam, I mean as a wolf? Has he calmed down some since last night?”

“He didn’t bite my hand off when I pet him earlier, if that’s sayin’ anything.”

“Pet him? God, what next?” Dean could almost picture the man rolling his eyes. “I’d hate to see what he could’ve done to you in that little room if he went all wild on your ass.”

“No kidding.” That same thought had already occurred to Dean, but underneath it all, he trusted his brother; Sam would never hurt him.

They said goodbye and, as usual, Dean promised to call if anything came up.

Dean disconnected the call and tucked his phone into his pocket. As he stood up and turned around to start getting their things together, the hunter was startled to see Sam sitting there, not more than a couple of feet away. The wolf tilted its head. It looked for all the world like Sam had been eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Well, looks like we’re going for a ride, Lassie.”

The wolf let out a quiet woof and Dean took it as an acknowledgement.

The car was packed and Dean came back into the room to use the bathroom one last time. When he was done, he looked at Sam. The wolf whined. _Shit._ “You gotta go, too?” Just because Sam was a wolf didn’t mean he didn’t have his needs as well. “Come on.” The hunter opened the door and Sam ran out into the night. Dean watched him disappear into the trees. “You better come back, dude. I’m not waiting all night for your ass.” He leaned up against the wall to wait for his brother.

A little while later, Sam showed up covered in leaves and dirt, but looked pleasantly happy with himself.

“Seriously? You couldn’t just go? Why’d you have to go rollin’ in the dirt?” Dean opened the car door and Sam jumped in ahead of him. “You’re gonna clean that up, you know.” He dusted the mess off the seat and slid in behind the wheel. “This is why I never had a dog,” he muttered under his breath.

Sam just looked over at him and thumped his tail on the seat. And damn if that didn’t look like a smile on his face.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

It was a little after four in the morning when Dean pulled the Impala up in front of Bobby’s house. He was tired and hungry – he couldn’t remember when he’d last slept or eaten – but he had driven straight through, not stopping once, not even for coffee. Sam had slept most of the ride with his head resting on Dean’s thigh.

The light on the porch flicked on and Bobby opened the front door as Dean was getting out of the car, followed by Sam. The old hunter knew what to expect, but his eyes still widened when he saw Sam in his wolf form. The kid was more than a little intimidating, dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

When Sam saw Bobby, he let out a low growl and flattened his ears. Dean rested his hand on the back of his brother’s neck. “Dude, it’s Bobby. Remember?” Sam snuffed at Dean, but settled down some.

“Friendly one, ain’t he?” Bobby stayed put and made sure not to make any sudden movements. Dogs were one thing, but wolves…even if it was just Sam. There were certain things about the younger Winchester that Bobby knew the man worked hard to keep under lock and key, things from his past that weren’t so bright, and there was no telling what would come out in the animal without those checks in place.

Dean shrugged without showing any real concern. “Protective, I guess,” he replied as he went around to the back of the car and popped the trunk to get their bags. He tossed a clothing duffel to Bobby since the man didn’t appear to want to come any closer. “I got the others,” Dean said as he pulled out two more bags and then closed the trunk lid.

Bobby held back and let Dean and Sam lead the way. Sam could sniff out the house or whatever else the wolf felt it needed to do to make itself at home. He couldn’t wait to have a hawk making a mess out of things later when and if Dean changed again, which was very likely given that Sam was on his second round of shifting. The hunter shook his head and followed the Winchesters into the house. _Home Sweet Home,_ Bobby thought to himself. _More like a damn zoo. What these two always get themselves caught up in…_

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean went straight upstairs to drop the bags off in his room; Sam followed at his heels, stopping to sniff at things every few feet. The elder Winchester nearly stumbled over his brother when he turned around to go back downstairs. The wolf was damn near glued to his side. “Sammy, it’s not gonna feel good when I step on you with these boots; you gotta give me a little room before you get hurt.”

During the ride to Bobby’s, Dean had thought about how different Sam was acting tonight versus the little bit he saw of him the previous evening. His brother had been full-on wild before, nothing resembling what he was now. Part of it, Dean assumed, was that Sam had been in pain. They may never have had a dog, but he knew well enough that dogs panicked when they were in pain. Someone’s precious Fido would bite the hand that fed him if he was hurting. It could have been as simple as that and Sam’s wolf brain just couldn’t comprehend that Dean hadn’t been there to harm him. Maybe the fact that Sam had had some time to sleep it off tonight had helped to settle him down. There really was no way to know for sure.

Another thought had occurred to Dean as well; this one disturbed him more than a little. There was the possibility that something else had changed _in_ them, in their brains or souls – or something – that allowed their minds to adjust better with the transformation after that first time, making them less traumatized by it. If they were changing at that level, who knew if they’d ever get out of this mess? Fuck, one of these times they might change and then never change back. Dean didn’t let himself dwell on that thought; that was the worst-case scenario.

He crouched down in front of Sam and looked at the wolf, his brother. Sam’s tongue was lolling out of the side of his mouth as he stared back at Dean. (Dean was never going to get used to that.) “We’ll figure this out, hopefully sooner rather than later, but dude, you gotta be nice to Bobby. No more growling and definitely no biting. You hear me?”

Again, the wolf tilted its head. It was as if Sam was concentrating hard, trying to understand what he was saying.

Dean shook his head and stood up. Even as a freakin’ wolf his brother was still too smart. “Come on. Let’s go see if Bobby has something to eat.”

The older hunter was in the kitchen working on getting a pot of coffee up and running when Dean and Sam came back downstairs.

“He ain’t gonna bite is he?” Bobby backed up to the counter when Sam slowly approached, sniffing him. He risked taking his eyes off Sam and looked at Dean and then back down at the wolf as it began to nose his crotch. “No, Sam.” Bobby forgot all caution then and pushed Sam away. He looked up at Dean again. “Call your brother off, would ya.”

“Sam, c’mon. Give the guy a break,” Dean said as he wearily took a seat at the table. He could have made any number of jokes about what had just occurred, but Dean wasn’t in the mood tonight, not when he was dealing with night number two of having a _wolf_ for a brother.

Sam padded over to his brother, claws making soft contact with the linoleum floor as he moved across the room, and then he lay down on the floor next to Dean, head resting on his front paws.

“You hungry? Got some leftovers in the fridge I can warm up for you,” Bobby offered.

“Starving. And I think Sam could use something, too.” Dean looked down when Sam lifted his head and woofed quietly in agreement.

Bobby glanced at the wolf. “Yeah, okay. Two plates of spaghetti and meatballs coming right up,” he said as he turned and started pulling plates down from the cabinet, then went to the fridge to retrieve the pot from dinner. “Consider it a late dinner.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“So,” Bobby hefted a large tome onto his desk as he spoke, “I was up late after you called and I think I finally found out why you two suddenly changed now as opposed to when all that crap went down in Chicago. It doesn’t tell us how to fix things, but it gives us a better idea of why. It’s a Buddhist holiday called Madhu Purnima and it’s celebrated on the full moon during their month of Bahdro which is our August/September.”

Dean shifted forward on the couch in interest, coffee mug in hand; Sam was once more at his feet dozing on and off. “Really? And what exactly do they celebrate on this holiday, ‘cause it certainly ain’t Christmas.” Dean’s sarcasm was bleeding through; he couldn’t help it. If it was just him, then okay, whatever, but to know the pain Sam was going through during each change was almost too much for him to bear.

“Here, this is what it says about it.” Bobby opened the heavy book up to a page he had bookmarked earlier and began to read the passage out loud. “’The day commemorates an occasion on which the Buddha retreated to the wilderness of the Parileya forest to bring peace between two quarrelling factions of disciples.’ Does that sound like anyone we know? Were you and Sam bickering like an old married couple while you were in that shop? ‘Cause if so, maybe the Wu was trying to ‘bring peace’ between you boys by doing this.”

Dean swallowed. Bobby was hitting a little too close to home with that one. “Maybe. But it wasn’t anything big. Sam was just PMS’ing.” The wolf lifted his head from the floor and growled. Dean looked down at him and lifted an eyebrow.

“Seems to me Sam disagrees with you,” Bobby observed, smiling.

“Yeah, well, maybe I was being a bit of a dick. It’s me we’re talking about here.”

“Uh, huh. That sounds more like it. Well, anyway, I haven’t found out anything about this,” he waved his hand, gesturing at Sam, “change you got goin’ on. It must be the journey and price the Wu was talking about. I’m still not sure about the second part though, the part where he said something about ‘matters of the heart’; that just don’t make a lick of sense. Your broken figurine clearly plays a part here, too, since you’re changin’ into the two animals it’s been made to represent.” He closed the book and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s just hope this journey of yours doesn’t last too long.”

“No kidding. Sam might be a pain in the ass, but I’m starting to miss the overgrown sasquatch.”

Dean jumped when Sam suddenly sat up on his haunches, barked at him, and then let out an irritated huff at his older brother’s unorthodox endearment. It had been at least a decade since Sam passed Dean out height-wise, and yet the man could never let it go. Dean had been so proud of himself when he came up with that dreaded nickname and it had stuck ever since; Sam hated it.

Dean looked down at Sam and smiled. Clearly his brother understood some things while in his lupine form. “Dude, really?” He dropped a hand down onto Sam’s head and gave him quick scratch between the ears.

Bobby chuckled. The scene in front of him reminded him of his old dog Rumsfeld. The big brute had been more loving than most people he knew.

Dean got up after a few minutes to rinse his empty coffee cup out. As he stood at the sink, he began to feel a little light-headed; something inside felt _off._ He braced himself on the edge of the counter and closed his eyes, assuming the slight vertigo would pass – maybe he’d gotten up a little too quickly from the couch or something – but it only got worse.

Sam began to growl in the other room and Dean turned his head to look back over his shoulder to see what was going on. He saw Bobby look up from his book just as a sharp pain ripped through his body, dropping him to his knees. Dean hadn’t been awake the first time his change had happened; therefore, he had no true idea of how much the transformation actually hurt. Falling over to his side and curling in on himself, he let out a cry and squeezed his eyes shut.

Suddenly, Bobby was there. “Dean! Take it easy, boy. It’ll be alright. I think it’s the damn sunrise that’s makin’ you shift. Just breathe through it.” Bobby’s words became a distant buzz at the back of Dean’s mind. All he knew was pain.

By sheer force of will, Dean opened his eyes so he could look over at Sam. The wolf was writhing on the floor in the other room, whining in agony. “Sam,” he gasped out as another shockwave hit him. Dean focused on his brother, wished he could be there for him, protect him…take the pain away. For a split second, the elder Winchester saw Sam in his human form, and then Dean was gone.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Bobby had a hard time digesting what he was bearing witness to. It was all too much, watching what he considered to be the closest people he had to family going through that much pain. In a flash, the man whose solid form was just under his hand disappeared, and in his place was a hawk. Bobby glanced behind him and saw Sam sitting there looking a bit surprised to find himself sitting in Bobby’s study with absolutely nothing on.

Sam looked over at the older hunter. “Bobby? What-?”

Bobby looked down at Dean, the hawk, before getting up from the floor and dusting his knees off; there was nothing he could do for the elder Winchester at the moment and he appeared to be okay. He walked into the study, pulled the blanket from the top of the couch, and covered Sam with it. “Go on upstairs and get dressed. We can talk after.”

Sam only nodded. He stood up and looked at the hawk sitting in a pile of Dean’s clothes in the kitchen. “Was he in pain?” he asked.

Bobby couldn’t lie. “It wasn’t a trip to Disney; that’s for sure.”

The young hunter bit his lip and nodded; he tried to blink back the sudden prick of tears in his eyes. “Thanks…for telling me the truth.” The man he loved was going through the same excruciating agony he was. Sam couldn’t help but blame himself. _That damn stupid argument…_ He swore to never pick a fight like that again. Next time, if there was a next time (and surely there would be if they got out of this mess), he’d talk to Dean. No more pulling the shit he had pulled.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam took a long, hot shower after he went upstairs, but no matter how much he scrubbed, he couldn’t wash away this nightmare. He wanted _Dean_ back. Yes, it had only been two days, but it was two days too many. Sam rested his forehead against the tiled wall and finally let the tears fall free. “Dean… I’m so sorry.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam still had no real recollection of the events that occurred while he was in wolf-form, but it was a little different this time around. There were shadows of memories, flashes of things, but nothing solid enough to grab a hold of; he had vague memories of staying very close to Dean the whole time, but not much more than that…and that was more of a _feeling_ than an actual recollection. He sat and listened as Bobby recounted his findings.

“So, sunrise and sunset. Huh.” Sam settled back into the couch. Dean was perched up by his shoulder. “And Dean says things were different this time around?”

“He said there was a bit more _you_ in there this time. You weren’t so…wild. I mean, look at Dean now. How is he compared to before?”

Sam glanced up at his brother and then reached a hand up to him. Dean didn’t try to fly away, but remained where he was and let Sam smooth a hand over him. The younger Winchester smiled when his brother leaned into the caress, almost as if he was enjoying it. “Yeah, I think I see what he means. Before, he would take off if I got less than a couple of feet from him, never mind being able to actually touch him.”

“Now, Sam,” Bobby leaned forward in his chair and pulled the young hunter’s attention away from the bird, “I’m still under the impression that you’re not telling me everything. I need you to be straight with me here if we’re going to fix this. Whatever it is you’re holding back about, it’s not worth hiding, not unless you wanna keep up like this forever.”

Worried eyes turned toward Bobby. Sam looked like he was about to say something, but at the last second he held back. He couldn’t tell the man. He and Dean had talked about this and they agreed to keep their relationship to themselves, at least for now. Instead of saying anything, Sam silently got up from the couch and walked out the front door. Just before the door swung shut, Dean flew out and followed him.

Bobby shifted back in his chair, causing it to creak in protest, and lifted his hat to run his fingers through his thinning hair. _What the hell was going on that Sam was too scared to tell him about?_ _And Dean also for that matter..._ He’d known the brothers long enough to be able to tell when they were hiding something; he didn’t actually need to hear it from them. And he had a feeling whatever it was this time around, it was something big. But those two were as thick as thieves sometimes, and if they didn’t want to talk, they weren’t going to talk. He knew that much.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam walked through the yard. He thought he had been wandering aimlessly, that was until he found himself in that little grassy area out back where he and Dean had last made love. It hurt to be there with the memories, not knowing if they would ever have that again.

He knelt down in the grass, dug his fingers into it, and let out a disparaging yell that echoed through the trees. He was angry at fate for throwing this at them. Dean had been right; they were like any other _normal_ couple. They were only human no matter what they’d gone through in the past…no matter how many times they’d both died and come back.

Looking up at the sky, Sam cried out, “What do you want from us?” Tears like small glittering diamonds fell from his eyes under the early afternoon light.

He thought he was alone until the hawk called out from nearby. Sam looked over and saw Dean land and settle into the grass. “Dean, I can’t do this. I can’t be without you. It’s killing me.”

Dean walked/hopped over to Sam, green eyes looking up at him. He made his quiet bird noises, almost as if telling Sam things were going to be okay.

Shifting to lay down in the grass, Sam found the warmth of the afternoon sun comforting and soon drifted off to sleep. The stress of the last couple of days had both physically and emotionally exhausted him.

It was late afternoon when he opened his eyes again. Dean was nowhere to be seen and Sam looked around for his brother. He finally spotted him off near the tree line and what he saw made him blanch. Dean had caught and killed something and was having lunch.

“Ewww, Dean. That’s just…” Sam turned away; he couldn’t watch. It turned his stomach to even think of what he was capable of doing as a wolf.

Sam was torn. He couldn’t stay out here all day hiding; he was going to have to go back in the house sooner or later. Bobby now knew for certain that he was holding back about something and Sam knew the man was going to keep pushing him until he cracked. (He could only avoid the hunter for so long in his own home.) Sam couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t his right to bring Dean down like that…maybe himself, but not Dean. That was a decision they’d have to make together, and right now, there was no way to discuss it with his brother.

He pushed himself up from the ground and wiped the dirt off his jeans. Without looking at the hawk, Sam called back over his shoulder, “C’mon, Dean. Lunchtime’s over.” Sam started his trek back up to the house. He let out a surprised yelp when Dean flew overhead and skimmed his hair. But he wasn’t angry, instead, he only laughed. Dean was reminding him that he was still there, bird or not.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They made it to the one week mark and the brothers continued to change with every sunrise and sunset. To Sam’s surprise, Bobby hadn’t pushed him any further about what wasn’t being said, and the older hunter didn’t bother with Dean because Dean swore up and down that he didn’t know what Sam might’ve been holding back on. Even lacking what he thought was most likely a vital piece of information, Bobby continued to plow ahead and research their latest problem. And he was still coming up empty-handed.

Bobby looked up when the front door opened and Sam (the wolf) came running in, Dean a few steps behind him. They had gone out for an early morning run; it wasn’t quite sun-up yet. The young hunters’ sleep schedules were thrown completely out of whack since they had started changing and Dean always tried to stay up long enough to be there for his brother’s transformation. It gave him that chance to glimpse Sam in his human form and allowed him to try to be there for him during his suffering, even if it was only for a second.

Bobby was starting to think of them as “a man and his dog”, at least when the two were in this form; “Sam and his bird” were something else entirely though. The younger Winchester had been too quiet as of late. Something was eating at the man (more than just the obvious) and Bobby couldn’t get through to him to find out what it was. It still confounded him how the two men could be from the same womb, but be so different.

“It’s getting to be that time, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean flopped down on the couch and toed off his sneakers; Sam jumped up after him, practically lying in his lap, and Dean began to scratch the wolf’s head. “I’m starting to feel like a damn vamp, only being able to go out at night. I never thought I’d miss the sun so much.”

Bobby looked at the two of them and shook his head. “It might be a while, but we’ll fix you and that lap dog of yours.” He eyed Sam and smirked before going back to reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee.

Dean was running his fingers through Sam’s fur. It was scary how comfortable he was getting doing that. Right now, he’d practically sell his soul to be able to be doing the same with Sam’s overly long hair. (But that whole idea was off the table. They’d learned their lesson a time too many when it came to crossroads deals.) “Well, I think I’m gonna go upstairs. I guess I’ll see you tonight then.”

Both Sam and Dean had taken to going to their room at sunrise and sunset. They knew it bothered Bobby to watch them go through the pain of transforming and it was one of those things (if you could call it that) that just felt like it should be done in private. Hell, the man didn’t need to see them bare-assed naked every time either; the brothers had _some_ modicum of modesty.

Bobby sipped his coffee and watched the two leave the room. Although Dean was better at hiding it, Bobby knew he was just as wrecked as Sam was. The brothers were always a little closer than was normal for siblings, but with the way they grew up, who could blame them?

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed. He found that it was usually better to go through the change while lying down, not that it hurt any less, but just so. Sam jumped up and lay down next to him, pushing his wet nose into Dean’s neck and Dean smiled at his brother’s need to be so close, even in this form.

The first of the sun’s rays began to peak over the horizon and Dean watched the shadows play on the wall. He wrapped his arm around Sam and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to begin. The wolf started to whine next to him. Any second now…

Dean waited as Sam began to twitch and cry out in his arms, but he, himself, didn’t feel anything at all. _Why wasn’t he changing?_ His eyebrows knitted into a frown. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he saw his brother’s form suddenly become human again. “Sammy?”

Sam blinked his eyes open. _Was he imagining things?_ _Dean_ was lying there next to him, not the hawk. “Dean?” Tears instantly sprang up in his eyes, blurring his vision, and he wiped them away.

Dean wasn’t going to ask questions and he certainly wasn’t going to take this time with Sam for granted. “Yeah, Sam, it’s me.” A tentative smile spread on his face.

“But-”

“Don’t.” He pressed a finger to Sam’s lips. “I don’t know how much time we have.” Dean rolled over and wrapped his arms around Sam, pressing a kiss to his lips. His hands immediately began to touch his brother everywhere, fingers drifting over the familiar hard lines of the man. He pulled away and looked Sam in the eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

Sam brought his hand up and cupped it around Dean’s cheek and jaw, tracing his thumb over his brother’s cheekbone. “Me, too.” He smiled. “Make love to me. Please, Dean…while we can.” He reached down and grasped Dean’s ass, pulling him closer.

Dean’s pupils instantly widened, pushing the green almost to non-existence. “Here? What about Bobby?” he asked as he smiled and gave Sam an Eskimo kiss. (No one but Sam knew he gave those…under threat of a slow and painful death.)

“I don’t care. Lock the door or something, but I need you.” Over the last few days, Sam felt like a part of him had been torn away. It pained him more than the change ever could. And now, for no known reason, they were both human again, together. Sam needed this, needed to be sure that Dean was for real, that he was _with_ him again.

Dean was up and out of bed in an instant. He flicked the lock on the door and then went to his duffel to grab the lube. He tossed it on the bed as he climbed up in between his brother’s legs and draped himself over the man; they were both already naked so that was one less thing they had to worry about.

He began near the fine dusting of hair on Sam’s lower abdomen, trailing his tongue up Sam’s stomach, stopping to tease at his bellybutton, then roamed upwards and mouthed each nipple until they came to small peaks. Dean sucked and marked along Sam’s collarbone all the while letting his hands run up and down his brother’s sides, fingers dragging over the ridges of his ribs and down to the jut of his hipbones. One hand finally settled between Sam’s legs, stroking and rubbing and messaging.

“Dean…” Sam looked down at his brother lazily and rolled up into his soft touches. For a man as fierce as Dean could be, he knew how to be tender when it counted. “Kiss me.”

Dean did. It was a passionate kiss, gentle, but strong and controlling all at once. He traced every corner of Sam’s mouth, reacquainting himself with what he’d missed for so long. He drew back, tugging at Sam’s lower lip with his teeth, and then licked his way back in again.

As he kissed Sam, Dean felt around for the lube and popped it open. He managed to single-handedly get some lube onto his fingers and reached down to tease at his brother’s tight ring of muscle. Carefully, he pushed a digit in as he sucked at the man’s tongue, swallowing the soft gasp that came from him. He twisted his wrist and dragged his finger over Sam’s prostate, causing him to arch upward from the bed. Dean smiled into the kiss, but didn’t relent. A moment later, he dipped another finger in and continued his slip/slide in and out of Sam’s tight hole.

He released Sam’s mouth from his attentions and looked down at his brother; his lips were kiss-swollen and his cheeks were flushed. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Sam,” he growled out, voice low and gravelly. After a few breaths, he dove back in. There was a whole week to make up for and he wasn’t going to waste a minute of it. At the same time, he tucked a third finger into his brother. _Almost there…_ He swallowed another moan from the man beneath him. They had to keep the noise to a minimum with Bobby sitting downstairs, and for some reason, that made what they were doing even hotter.

Finally, Dean pulled his fingers free and sat up on his knees, cock hard and already dripping with precum. The sight before him was too much to resist: Sam, all hot and needy, body twisting and wanting. “Think you can keep quiet? I know it’s gonna be tough for you.” He grinned.

Sam could only nod as he bit his lower lip and stared up at Dean. He was already done for and it wouldn’t take much to get him where he needed to be.

Dean picked up the lube and spread some over his fingers. He sat there for a moment stroking himself, body trembling with his own need. When he was ready, he tossed the lube to the floor and pulled Sam’s legs up so his ankles could rest on his shoulders. He lined himself up and pushed in slow and firm. Sam let out a quiet moan as he slid in, bottoming out a moment later. Dean shifted and started thrusting, steady and sure. “Fuck, Sammy,” he said quietly.

Sam tried to match Dean, thrust for thrust, but he was lost in the sensations. His brother repeatedly brushed over his sensitive bundle of nerves and Sam did his best to keep from crying out, but he couldn’t help the noise he made when Dean reached down to grasp his cock and began to stroke it.

“Dean… Oh god, yeah. That’s it. Fuck.” The words poured from Sam’s mouth as his brother pounded into him. He could feel his balls start to tighten up and he made every attempt to hold off, but what Dean was doing to him…

“That’s it, Sammy. Oh yeah.” Dean pulled out almost completely and stopped, and then plunged deep into his brother, aiming directly for where he knew the man would be affected the most. Clearly, his aim was true because Sam jolted up off the bed and cried out and Dean was right there with a sweep of his tongue, muffling the sound. He could feel Sam harden even further in his hand and knew his brother was there.

Sam threw his head back into the pillow as he let go, teeth clenched and eyes closed. He tried to hold back the yell, but it still escaped from between his teeth. His breath came in quick pants and his heart felt like it was going to explode.

Dean’s pace stuttered and he bit back his groan as he made his final thrust, coming deep and hard into his brother. “Fuck!” He threw his head back, chest heaving; his muscles were quivering from the exertion. Slowly, he pulled out with another groan and fell down on the bed next to Sam so he could catch his breath. “I missed that…I missed _you_ so much.” He trailed a couple of tired kisses along Sam’s neck before leaning over to pick up a shirt from the floor. “Here.” He tossed the piece of clothing over to Sam so his brother could clean himself off.

Typical Dean, even now. “Gee, thanks,” Sam mumbled as he took the shirt (at least it was Dean’s) and wiped the cooling semen from his chest and stomach. He threw it back onto the floor when he was done.

“I need sleep,” Dean said a few minutes later. He’d been up all night and was exhausted. “Give me a couple of hours?”

“Whatever you need.” Sam rolled over onto his side and wrapped an arm around Dean. “Just don’t go changing on me.”

“I’ll try not to, but I’m not sure if I have much of a say in that.” Dean looked up into Sam’s eyes, the same eyes he’d gotten so used to seeing on the wolf. He swore that if he looked hard enough, he could see right into Sam’s soul. “Don’t you go anywhere either. Just stay here with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” Sam snuggled up to his brother and closed his eyes. He prayed that when they both woke up later that they’d still be themselves.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They were awoken a few hours later to a knock at the door.

“Sam? You okay in there?”

 _Oh, shit!_ they both thought when they heard Bobby outside the door.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I guess I just fell asleep. Give me a minute and I’ll be down.”

“Alright. There’s a sandwich downstairs with your name on it.”

Sam glanced over at Dean. His brother was still there and Sam couldn’t hold back his smile. “Okay, thanks, Bobby.” He leaned down and kissed the man before climbing out of bed. “I suppose we should get dressed and go downstairs.”

“Yeah, we probably should.” Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “You might want to fix your hair first. The ‘just fucked’ look works for you, but I’m not so sure Bobby would agree.”

“You should look in a mirror,” Sam laughed in reply.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Bobby heard something that didn’t sound right when Sam came down the stairs; he nearly dropped his coffee when he saw why. It was two sets of feet he had heard. The old hunter was speechless when _both_ Winchesters came around the corner and stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean said with a bright smile on his face. “You got a sandwich for me, too?”

“Um…” Bobby gripped the edge of the counter behind him tightly, you know, just in case an old man’s legs might give out for some odd goddamn reason. “What? How?” His eyes were wide, brows lost up behind the brim of his hat.

“Don’t know,” Dean replied almost nonchalantly, “but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

Sam sidled by Dean and sat down at the table to eat his sandwich. His appetite seemed to have grown tenfold since this whole deal had started up. He figured it was because a wolf’s metabolism was so much faster than a human’s. Hopefully, this whole transformation thing was over now and things would get back to normal.

When Bobby got his heart rate under control, he walked across the kitchen to take a seat at the table. “Yeah, I think I agree with you on that one.” He looked between the brothers and then back at Dean. “Help yourself to some food if you’re hungry. There’s plenty of sandwich fixins’ in the fridge if that’s what you want.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Two sandwiches later, Dean sat back in his chair and rubbed his full stomach in satisfaction. When he leaned forward to pick up his beer to finish it off, he noticed Sam watching him from across the table. His brother had practically been staring at him the entire time they’d been downstairs. And Dean knew exactly why, too. Sam was worried he was going to change again, at any given moment. But there was a little something more there, too, like this morning hadn’t been quite enough to satiate his needs. Dean was going to have to get Sam out of there before he blew everything. Like Sam had said before, Bobby wasn’t blind and he was far from dumb.

“Sammy, why don’t we go for a drive. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the sun on my face. And it looks like you could use some air.” He lifted his brow in a way that told his brother not to disagree with him.

Sam knocked back the last of his beer. “Sure, Dean. If that’s what you wanna do.” It wasn’t just a drive Dean was looking for. Sam could see his brother wanted to talk and it was probably about something he didn’t want Bobby overhearing.

Bobby had been watching the looks the two brothers were exchanging. Something was up that they weren’t sharing…probably that same damn something that Sam wasn’t talking about. He had given up asking anymore. “You two sure that’s such a good idea? What if Dean goes all Big Bird in the middle of your ride? Or even you Sam… If this whole thing is turnin’ some kind of corner, neither of you know when something’s gonna happen.”

“Bobby, we’ll be fine,” Dean assured the man as he stood up and started helping Sam clear off the table. “Anyway, I think it’ll be good for both of us to get out for a little while. As far as the change,” he shrugged, “we get a few minutes’ notice, so there’s time to pull over if we need to; I’m not worried about it.”

Bobby knew there was no telling the boys “no” once they had their minds set on something. “Well, just be careful then. And keep an eye on that sun. Who knows what’s gonna happen tonight when it goes down? Obviously, something’s different and you don’t want to be out there somewhere when you find out what it is.”

Dean rinsed his and Sam’s plates off and put them in the rack beside the sink to dry. When he was finished, he headed out of the kitchen to find his keys. “We’ll be back with time to spare. Don’t worry, Bobby.” He patted the man on the shoulder as he walked by.

Sam was right behind him. “I’ll make sure we’re back in time,” he said reassuringly as he passed Bobby on the way out.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean slipped in behind the wheel of the car and started her up with a satisfied smile. He hadn’t driven Baby since he made the second leg of the drive in from Louisiana. When Sam was situated in the passenger seat, Dean put the car in gear and headed out towards the road. “How’s Madison Lake sound? It’s only an hour away. The sun’s up until seven-thirty or so, so there’s plenty of time.”

“Isn’t that the place where-”

“Sure is.” Dean glanced over at his brother, surprised Sam even remembered it. It had been what, sixteen years since the last time they were up there.

John Winchester had brought them there when Dean was fifteen and Sam was eleven. It was one of their so-called “camping” trips. Their father had blindfolded the brothers and had led them out some distance into the forest (in the middle of the night no less). It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, so Sam and Dean knew what they were in for.

The man had left them standing in a clearing. The rule was, they had to count to three hundred – five minutes – and then they could remove their blindfolds. The task was to find their way back to the campsite within whatever time parameters John had set for them. The only things they were equipped with were flashlights, buck knives, and a bottle of water each.

Dean had always excelled at the game, finding his way back to the camp in well under the allotted time. Sam was still young and he hadn’t quite mastered the skill of tracking, but he had his big brother to stick with, so it didn’t bother him too much at the time.

This particular instance hadn’t been one of Dean’s better runs, or so Sam thought. The elder brother had gotten them turned around somehow and they had been lost for hours. (John Winchester had been an expert at covering his tracks.)

In the end, it was Sam who found the way out, showing up his super-hero older brother. And he spent months afterward rubbing that one in. (He received quite a few painful noogies for it, too.)

“Hey, just because you couldn’t tell the difference between Dad’s tracks and a wolf’s-” Sam broke off. Yeah, maybe that wasn’t so funny anymore.

Dean grinned after a span of uneasy silence which emanated more from Sam than himself, as the mention of a wolf didn’t bother Dean so much.

“What?” Sam eyed his brother warily from across the seat.

“I never told you, Sammy, but that was all a set-up, me getting us ‘lost’ out there. Dad and me, we faked it. He wanted to see if you could handle it on your own.”

Sam’s jaw fell and he stared at his brother. “Seriously?” He reached over and smacked Dean in the back of the head lightly. His brother was laughing. “Dude, that’s just cruel. All these years and you’re just now telling me. I thought I _had_ you on that one.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I used to love showing the old man up. I was _good_...and still am for that matter.” Dean winked at Sam. “I’m hurt that you would even think I’d be so bad as to get us turned around like that.”

“You’re such a jerk, Dean.” Sam pouted playfully as he turned so he could face the man, back up against the door.

“And you’re a bitch.” Dean smiled at him. Sam had set himself up for that one.

“So, you looked like you wanted to talk when we were in Bobby’s kitchen…,” Sam changed the subject after a few minutes.

“Yeah, um, I think you should lay off the staring just a little bit. Bobby’s gonna start thinking something’s up. I think even Helen Keller could pick up the vibes, dude.”

Dean received bitch face #6 for that comment and continued quickly before Sam could say anything. “But aside from that, I was wondering if you had any more ideas on what’s going on with us. You think this thing is over? I mean, did we ‘fix’ whatever was supposedly wrong with us? ‘Cause if so, I honestly can’t think of what we did to do it.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said as he shifted a little bit; the door was starting to dig uncomfortably into his back. He had absolutely no idea what was going on or if they’d done anything to end the curse. “It’s been a week since that holiday or whatever, that Madhu something-or-other that Bobby came up with. I read somewhere that seven is a lucky number in the Chinese culture. It’s possible the curse just ran its course. The Wu might have figured a week would teach us a lesson in humility or something. I could’ve been wrong about the whole ‘fixing us’ thing. I’ve been wrong before.”

“That’s all you got, geekboy? C’mon, Sam. You’re the brains of this outfit. You’re really tellin’ me you got nothing more than that?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I’ve gone over _everything._ There’s just nothing out there.”

“Well, let’s just hope it’s over and there’s nothing for us to have to figure out then. You play a good game of catch, but, dude, the doggy kisses…yeah, not so much.”

“Dean! Really?” Sam just looked at him. “Well, at least I’m not off killing some poor, defenseless field mouse and eating the thing…raw.”

That got Dean’s attention.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

It was a beautiful afternoon and there was a slight breeze out on the water. The lake had quite a few boats already out on it. When the brothers arrived, they rented a small row boat for themselves along with some fishing gear. They drifted on the water for a few hours, neither catching anything larger than a seven or eight inch trout.

Sam laughed when Dean pulled a fish from his hook and it slipped out of his hands and started flopping around on the floor of the boat. After Dean finally got a hold of the thing and released it back into the water, he cupped his hands and threw a double handful of water at his brother; that was only the beginning. Both men were lucky to not have ended up in the water after that, or worse, capsizing the whole damn boat.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They got back to Bobby’s with plenty of time to spare. The old hunter appeared to be relieved that they’d made it back in one piece, and both still in human form.

The three men were currently on the porch watching the sun disappear behind the horizon. Sam was sitting on the bottom step and Bobby and Dean were leaning up against the railing.

If there was a change, Sam would be the one curled up in pain in just a few minutes. He looked up at Dean and they made eye contact. The older Winchester looked worried; his whole body was tense. Sam mouthed the words “I love you” to his brother and Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head. This was affecting Dean a lot more than he was letting on.

The clock ticked and the sun went down.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bonus chapter...

And nothing happened.

Sam uncurled his fingers. He had been bracing himself for the intense pain to begin, but there was nothing. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and cautiously looked back up at his brother. The man was smiling.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Bobby said quietly from next to Dean. “It looks like it might just be over.”

Sam stood up from the step and went directly to Dean, pulling him away from the railing and giving him a tight hug. “It’s over,” he whispered. “God, it’s over.”

“Looks like, Sammy.” Dean stood there and held Sam for as long as his brother needed. Behind him, he heard Bobby move across the porch to go back inside, leaving them to their chick-flick moment.

After a minute or two, Sam finally pulled away. “So…”

“Yeah.” Dean looked off to where the sun had set, then back to Sam. A smile edged its way onto his face. “How about we borrow Bobby’s T.V. and watch ourselves an action flick or two, make some popcorn, and have a few beers? I feel like celebrating.”

Sam grinned. It had been too long since they’d done that. “Count me in.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They ended up watching two Norris films and made it halfway through a third. Bobby had retired after the first was over, saying something about some early morning errands he had to run and that he didn’t want to be up too late. He bid them goodnight and headed off to bed.

During the short intermission between the second and third movies, Dean got up and grabbed a couple more beers from the fridge and a bag of potato chips from the cabinet. When he came back into the room, Sam had just finished getting the next movie set up and was sitting back down on the couch.

“You know, one of these days that stuff’s gonna start catching up to you.” He shook his head as his brother tore the bag open and stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

“Well, it ain’t today,” Dean said with his mouth full. “Anyway, I’m not the one who ate all the popcorn.” He dropped down next to Sam and threw his socked feet up into his brother’s lap. “Play button, Sam.” Dean flung a chip at Sam’s head and snickered when it got caught in his hair.

Sam retaliated by grabbing the man’s big toe and attempting to twist it until Dean cried “uncle”. But making his brother give in was quite a challenging task in itself. Sam wasn’t sure who got hurt more at the conclusion of the encounter because he was the one who ultimately ended up on his ass on the floor, stuck between the couch and the coffee table with a rug burn on his elbow and Dean’s heavy weight pinning him down. (His brother always had been better at sparring, dammit.)

They fell asleep somewhere around the time Chuck started some serious ass whooping, taking down more than his fair share of bad guys with a few well-timed kicks and punches. By then, there were at least a dozen beer bottles lined up on the coffee table. Sam’s legs were outstretched, feet up on the table in front of him; his head was resting back on the couch, mouth open, allowing deep snores to rumble out of it. Dean was on his back, feet still propped up on his brother, and his left arm was hanging over the side of the couch; the bag of crumbs having fallen to the floor, forgotten. It was far from a pretty sight, but they were happy.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The next morning when Bobby came downstairs, he saw Sam sleeping on the couch. The younger Winchester didn’t look too comfortable either. But then again, the man had been used to sleeping plenty in the Impala over the years; Bobby’s couch was a luxury compared to that.

Sam woke up to the sound of bottles being cleared from the table. “Bobby?”

“Looks like you two had quite the party here last night,” the man muttered. “Next time you go out, remember you owe me a case of beer.”

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Sam looked over and saw that Dean wasn’t on the couch anymore. _He must have gone upstairs,_ he thought to himself without any concern. He got up to help the older hunter pick up their mess. “I got the rest of it, Bobby. You’ve got things to do.” It _did_ look like they had celebrated a little more than they should have the previous evening. Sam was a bit surprised that he didn’t have some sort of hangover.

“Kree-eee-ar!”

 _Nononono…_ Sam nearly stumbled halfway to the kitchen when he heard the sound. He spun around, looking for the hawk. That was when Sam noticed something he hadn’t seen when he got up: Dean’s clothes on the floor, mostly hidden behind the coffee table.

Bobby was back in the study almost instantly. “Aw, hell.” He glanced at Sam and then at Dean, the hawk, as he flew down from the top of one of the bookcases. Bobby grabbed a chair from the kitchen and pulled it over when he saw the color drain from Sam’s face; he took the empty beer bottles from the young hunter before they ended up all over the floor.

“What… What happened? I thought this was over.” Sam was near tears as he sat down heavily in the chair. “Oh, god, Dean.” He ran his fingers up into his hair and clenched them, looking at the hawk. His brother stared back at him and blinked. “Dean, what happened?”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam spent most of the morning scouring the internet for something, anything; he was desperate. Aside from Dean who was perched on the chair across from him at the table, he was alone. Bobby couldn’t put off the errands that needed to be run. Unfortunately, some supplies just couldn’t be gone without.

He sat back after a couple of hours, slamming the lid to the laptop closed in frustration. It was the same shit over and over again. As he sat there, he thought about the figurine. He hadn’t seen it since when, that night when Bobby had looked at it? Where was it now?

Sam got out of his chair and started searching for it. He began with Dean’s duffel, but came up empty. He looked in the bureau in the guest room. Nothing. He even took it upon himself to look through Bobby’s desk drawers which he didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable with, but well… Still nothing.

Dean was sitting up on the shelf again, watching Sam (he seemed to like high places), and the younger Winchester looked up at him. “Dean, where’d it go?”

The hawk eyed him silently and cocked its head to the side as if it was listening to him.

“The figurine. I can’t find it anywhere.”

The bird just sat there and made its soft bird noises that Sam was getting too used to.

“Yeah, I know. You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Sam gave up and went to go back into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Bobby would be back soon and he’d check with the man then.

A flash of wings and feathers went by Sam’s head and he ducked on instinct. “What the hell, man?” When he turned around and spotted Dean, his brother was sitting on Dean’s jacket which was tossed over the back of the couch. _Dean’s jacket!_ Sam went over to it and shooed the hawk over so he could go through the pockets. He swore and pulled his hand out of one pocket, having nicked his finger on a small knife that Dean kept hidden in it.

Of course this jacket had a ton of pockets; it was Dean’s brown military jacket, the typical style that a hunter wore. You could hide a load of shit it in, including a broken Buddhist figurine which Sam finally pulled out of one of the interior pockets. He glanced over at Dean. “You can understand me?”

Dean made another small noise.

Sam wasn’t sure if the sound was a “yes” or “no”, but he leaned more towards the affirmative. “Huh. Too bad you can’t talk, too,” he said as he went into the kitchen and rummaged around in one of Bobby’s junk drawers looking for some glue. Sam was going to take a shot at gluing the two pieces back together. Neither of them had tried again since Dean’s failed attempt back in Illinois.

Ten minutes later, Sam watched as the hawk slid off the wolf and fell onto the table. “What the hell?” he mumbled. Some sort of magic had to be putting up resistance to the figure being made whole again, but until they could find _any_ kind information on it, Sam was at a loss. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the key to fixing things; he just needed more time to figure it all out.

Sam was deep in thought and jumped when the front door opened and Bobby walked in juggling several grocery bags in his arms.

“Well, don’t just sit there starin’; go get the rest. It’s because of you and that brother of yours that I’m outta food already.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

That night Sam changed again. When Dean came to, he was livid.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” He was storming around the study in a fury. “I thought this was done and over with.” Dean looked over at Bobby who was sitting at the kitchen table letting him air out. “Has anyone heard anything on that damn Wu yet?”

“Sorry, Dean.” Bobby shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Dammit,” Dean growled.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Day fourteen. The sun had risen less than twenty minutes ago and Dean had once again witnessed Sam’s change from wolf to man as he, himself, lay there unchanging.

“So what you’re telling me is that we get to be together for one day a week?” Dean asked Sam as he traced a finger down the man’s side and across his bare stomach. One of the hardest things about this curse was not being able to touch his _brother_ when he wanted to.

Sam’s stomach jumped at Dean’s tickling touch; he shifted onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. “That’s what I’m thinking. Remember what I said about the Chinese culture and the number seven?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, it’s a lucky number, so?”

“Well, there’s that, but it also symbolizes togetherness. I think this is some kind of cycle, Dean, the Wu’s way of giving us a chance to figure this out.”

“Gee, that’s so generous of the little bastard. Where is he now? I think I’d like to thank him, maybe even give him big hug while I’m at it. Fuck. One day isn’t enough time; we’re no closer to ‘figuring this thing out’ than we were last week.”

“At least we get something.” Sam reached over and pulled Dean in for a kiss. It had been a week and he didn’t want to be talking about this right now.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Almost two weeks later, Dean was sitting at Bobby’s desk leafing through one of the dusty volumes from the man’s library. As he was doing so, he noticed the corner of a file folder peeking out from under some papers. He glanced up to make sure the older hunter wasn’t around, then picked it up and began looking through its contents. It was a job.

A handful of people had turned up dead near Minot, North Dakota and Dean could see from the witness reports that it looked a lot like demon activity. Ever since he and Sam got Lucifer locked back up in his cage, it seemed like all Hell had broken loose (no pun intended), more so than even before Sam had been tricked into releasing the fallen angel from his cage.

When he heard Bobby coming up the basement stairs, Dean quickly closed the folder and pulled the book back in front of him. He had previously brought up the possibility of taking on a small hunt here and there again, but the older man was opposed to it in every way. Apparently, he had mentioned Dean’s thoughts to Sam and Sam wasn’t exactly happy with the idea either.

Dean looked up from the book and closed it as Bobby stepped into the room; he was covered in dirt and cobwebs. From what Dean knew, the man had been downstairs for the better part of the day. Dean could only imagine what the hunter was up to. Hell, he said he’d built the panic room in a weekend.

“Learning anything?” Bobby asked as he took off his hat and wiped his forehead off with a rag he had pulled from his back pocket. Apparently, he’d built up quite a sweat working on whatever it was down there.

“Not much. – Hey, listen. I know you’ve talked to Sam, and I know he’s not really all that enthusiastic about the idea, but I gotta get out of here, get back on the road for a little while, even if it’s just for a couple of days. I’ve been thinking about it. I have almost ten hours a night to be out doing my thing and Sam can research during the day. We’re not helping anyone by sittin’ around here on our asses.”

Shit. Bobby knew what this was. Dean had found that folder he left on his desk; he had forgotten to put it away earlier. Damn nosy kid. “Well, I can’t keep you from going if that’s what you wanna do; you’re a grown man. But _you’re_ gonna talk to Sam about it. I’m not getting into the middle of that one any more than I already have.”

Sam had been lying on the couch sleeping (he slept a lot in his animal form because he spent most of his hours as a human awake; Dean did, too), but he had woken up to the two men talking. He looked over at Dean and Dean could almost see a scowl showing through on the animal’s features. With every change, they were becoming more and more aware of things and a lot less wild and Dean knew Sam understood most of what was being said. He lifted an eyebrow and then looked back at Bobby.

“That’s fine. In another day, we’ll have our twenty-four hours. I’ll get him to listen to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Bobby leaned back against the doorway to the kitchen and eyed Dean. “‘Cause I’ll tell you, he ain’t gonna be happy if you just stuff him in that car and leave, or worse yet, leave him behind.” Dean looked slightly taken aback at the words and Bobby defended himself. “Now don’t go looking at me like that. I know you, Dean, and I know what you’re capable of when you get the itch for a huntin’ fix.”

Sam interjected with a growl then and jumped down off the couch. Dean watched as the wolf went to stand next to the older hunter, backing the man up. “Yeah, I think I get the picture.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

“It’s too dangerous, Dean.” Sam was standing by the window in the guest room with his arms crossed. Dean had approached him on the subject of hunting not long after they finished breakfast. “What if one of us gets stuck out on the job while the sun’s either going up or going down? We can’t risk that.”

Dean was leaning up against the bureau, arms crossed as well. He wasn’t going to back down. This was something he almost _had_ to do. “Sammy, I can’t stay here. Neither can you. I can see how it’s bothering you. Look, we’ve exhausted all of our current resources on this curse. Maybe if we take some time off and come back to it later with fresh eyes, we’ll find something that wasn’t there before. This’ll work out. You’ll see.”

The elder Winchester moved across the room into Sam’s space. His brother was avoiding eye contact because he knew Dean would talk him into going. Dean lifted the man’s chin, forcing Sam to look at him. “Let’s just try out one job…if it works, then great, if not, we’ll come back here indefinitely, although I’m not sure how long Bobby’s gonna let us stick around. I think he’s starting to get a little tired of me,” he said with a smile.

Sam rolled his bottom lip in and bit it. Dean was right; Sam was just as bored sitting around as his brother was. But the only thing he could think of was that whatever job they took, Dean would be out there alone, hunting in the dark without backup. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that.

“C’mon, Sammy. It’s not like I’m saying we give up on trying to fix our problem, not at all. And I’m not planning on doing anything crazy like hunt that son of a bitch Crowley. I just need to feel normal for a while; you need it, too. It’s our sanity no matter how fucked up that might seem.

“Consider it a trial run. If anything gets outta hand, we can drop it and leave it for someone else.” Dean leaned in and butterflied soft kisses up Sam’s neck, trying to break his brother down.

“Fuck, Dean…” Sam stumbled back up against the wall behind him. “This is so unfair.” He felt himself giving in. _Dammit._

Dean pulled away. “So, what do you say?” He was smiling mischievously.

“You’re an asshole.” Sam tried to hide the fact that he was holding back a smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched, giving it away. “You really wanna do this?”

“Yes, I do. And actually, it looks like Bobby has a hot case sitting downstairs. It’s up in Minot, North Dakota. You can read through the file on the way there.” The grin hadn’t left his face. Yeah, he could have done this on his own, but he’d much rather have Sam there with him…and leaving his brother behind wasn’t an option right now, no matter what Bobby might think.

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. But I reserve the right to shut this down.”

“Bitch.” Dean gave Sam a quick peck on the lips and ran out the door. “Get moving,” he called back over his shoulder. “We’ve got until sunset to get there and we need to get our gear packed up.”

Sam just stood there for a moment. He couldn’t believe he’d just agreed to this. _What was I thinking?_ He glanced at his watch. It was just after nine in the morning. He did the math in his head. They would have to leave by eleven if they were going to make it to Minot before he changed for the night.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They were heading north on I-29; Dean was at the wheel while Sam continued to sift through the information Bobby had pieced together. Demons. Again.

“You had to find something with demons?” The younger Winchester looked up at his brother after a while. “You promised you weren’t going to take on a job like this. Dean, this is the worst possible thing you could’ve picked to do on your own; I’m not gonna be there to have your back.” Sam was worried. If it was one demon, Dean would more than likely be okay, but if it was more than that…

“I said I wasn’t gonna go after something like Crowley. I’m sure whatever this job is, the demon at the bottom of it isn’t even in the same league as him.” Dean glanced over at Sam before looking back at the road. “Sam, don’t worry; I’ll be fine. I’ll back off if I can’t handle it. I already told you if it’s too much for us, we’ll leave it for someone else.”

Sam blew his bangs out of his face in a huff of frustration. “Why am I having a hard time believing that? You know, now I’m getting why you didn’t give me this file until after we left.” He slapped the file folder down in his lap. “You didn’t want me to know it was demons, not until it was too late.”

“Dammit, Sam, it’s not like that at all.” Dean looked over at his brother again. “I just thought we could enjoy the ride for a little while. You’ve been tense as fuck every time we get this day together. We’ll get through this, all of this.” He put his arm out, inviting the man to come sit next to him. “C’mere.”

Sam tucked the file into his computer bag and then moved across the seat. No matter how upset he got with his brother, they did only have this one day together a week. He wasn’t going to ruin it. “Dean,” he laid his head on the man’s shoulder, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He felt Dean’s arm tighten around him and closed his eyes.

“Like I said, Sammy, we’ll get through it. I don’t know how, but we will.” That was a promise Dean intended to keep.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean slammed an open palm down on the steering wheel in frustration. They had gotten stuck in traffic on the highway and he had spent the last forty-five minutes cursing about it. He glanced at his watch. Sam had less than twenty minutes before the sun set and the line of traffic in front of them was endless. The next exit was still a good five miles up the road.

“Dean, calm down. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll just go in the backseat.”

“No, Sam. You’re not gonna go through it alone like that. We haven’t changed by ourselves since that first night.”

Sam appreciated Dean’s need to be there for him, to protect him, but the man had to understand he couldn’t always be with him, especially if this thing didn’t end soon. “I’ll be fine, Dean,” he tried to console his brother, but knew it would take more than just words. They were sitting still in traffic and Sam reached up to turn Dean’s head toward him. He leaned over and kissed the man. “Honestly, Dean, I’ll be fine.” He held his brother’s gaze for a moment longer. Dean’s jaw twitched and Sam could see his brother clearly wasn’t happy about the whole idea.

A car honked suddenly and they both jumped.

“Fuck,” Dean grumbled and rolled the car forward a few feet. “Sam-”

“Dean, I’m a grown man. I know you don’t want to hear it and now’s not really the time, but no matter how much you hate it, you have to stop trying to protect me all the time. I’m more than just your little brother now, and I have been since you first kissed me. And I also shouldn’t have to remind you that I’ve been through a hell of a lot worse.”

Dean was silent for a while, giving Sam’s words some thought. The man was right…about everything. Sam wasn’t _little_ _Sammy_ anymore, but Dean had been watching over him for so long now; it wasn’t like it was something he could just turn off. He’d have to work on that and it was going to take some time, a lot of time. And yeah, they’d _both_ been through worse. – Dean had spent forty years in Hell; Sam had died on a few occasions, not to mention Lucifer trying to wear his ass to the prom. Thank god, with a little help from a certain angel, they were able to find that Enochian spell to lock him back in the cage before he got his hands on Sam. – “Fine,” he finally gave in. Dean saw his brother lift his brow in surprise. “But we’re gonna talk about this later, okay?” He stared over at Sam waiting for a response.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, okay.” And that was the end of that subject for now. “So, you’re gonna get some sleep tonight, right? Let me get some research done tomorrow to get a better idea of what’s going on. I don’t want you out there on your own without some sense of who you’re up against or how many of them there are, plus you’ve been up all day, and if I’m guessing right, most of last night, too.”

“It’s demons, Sam. We already know that. Just see if you can find out where they’re playin’ house and I’ll take care of the rest. And no, I won’t go out tonight.” He felt Sam’s eyes boring holes into him and turned to look at him. “I promise, Sam. Now stop worrying so damn much. You’re gonna fry your brain.” He smirked.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The sun was hugging the horizon and Sam was starting to fidget. He could _feel_ the change coming on. “I think I’m gonna get in the backseat. I’m not feeling so hot right now.”

Dean glanced over at his brother. The man was looking a little peaked. “Yeah, okay, Sam. I guess I’ll see you in seven days then. Don’t go off doing anything stupid tomorrow either. And like we agreed, you need to tell me something, leave me a note, type something up on the computer, or leave me a voice mail.” He reached up and palmed the side of Sam’s face. (Sam needed a shave, but Dean sort of liked the rugged look on his brother.) With a little tug, he pulled the man forward and gave him a parting kiss. “I love you.”

Sam gave Dean a brief smile, but he still couldn’t help the worry that shown through it. “I love you, too. And be careful.” After that was said, he climbed into the backseat to await the inevitable.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean flinched at the first cry. He could tell Sam was trying to hold back, but the man couldn’t; the beginning of the transformation was just too painful. He cursed when he felt Sam kick the back of his seat and he chanced a glance behind him.

Sam was lying on his side, face locked in an expression of sheer agony. He was breathing rapidly, and if he clenched his jaw any tighter, Dean was sure teeth would start cracking.

“Sammy, hang in there, man. It’ll be over in just another minute.” God, all he wanted to do was pull over and just be there, but by the time he would be able to do that, the transformation would be complete. There really wasn’t anywhere to go anyway.

Another yell, nearly a scream, and then silence. When Dean looked over his shoulder again, the wolf was lying on the seat.

 _Yeah, this seriously sucked._ “C’mon, Sam.” He patted the seat next to him. “We still have a little ways to go yet.”

A second later, Sam, the wolf, was covering the other two thirds of the front seat next to Dean.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean had promised not to go out and do anything tonight, but he did decide to scope the neighborhood out from the safety of the car; it wouldn’t take more than an extra ten or fifteen minutes.

Sam knew right away that Dean was up to something. He sat up in the seat and huffed a growl of displeasure, eying his brother as he did so.

“Dude, chill out. I’m not gonna get out of the car. I just want to get the lay of the land.”

There were a total of five deaths. The first three had happened in one particular area of town, the club scene. The most recent two had occurred on the outskirts of town; the bodies had been found in the woods by some deer hunters. There were several farms in the area, very viable places for the demons to be hiding out in, and Dean drove by them slowly. He would make sure to leave Sam a note to check on them.

But for now, Dean needed to find a motel for them to stay at for the next several days. He turned the car around and headed back into town to find a suitable place.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean was asleep when it happened. Sam growled low in his throat and his ears twitched. The wolf wasn’t fully awake, but he was already sensing something was wrong. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at the door.

Hearing Sam awake, Dean reached over and put an arm around his brother. It wasn’t sensual in any manner; Dean wasn’t into that bestiality crap. But feeling Sam there was a comfort. “Sam, go back to sleep. It’s late. He glanced at the clock and it read one twenty-two in the morning.

Sam’s body tensed and the growl deepened. That caused Dean to sit up. “What-”

The door suddenly burst open and before Dean could fully react, he was thrown across the room into the wall. His head hit hard with a loud crack and the world flickered in and out of focus; he felt himself losing consciousness.

Then someone was there in front of him. “Oh, no, no, no, Dean. You’re not gonna drop out of this so easily.”

A sharp smack brought Dean around. He hissed in pain and felt blood begin to trickle from his nose. From the other end of the room, he heard Sam snarling. When Dean was able to lift his head, he saw his brother backed into a corner with two demons flanking him. _No._ “Leave him alone,” he struggled to get out, but the pressure on his chest was making it too hard to breathe, let alone speak.

A dark-haired man who appeared to be in his thirties was standing in front of Dean. His eyes were solid pools of obsidian and they held a certain kind of menace reserved only for demons. “Dean Winchester.” He tsked. “You know, you should really get a different car. You just make it too easy to pick you out of a crowd.” The demon looked back over his shoulder at his two companions and the wolf. “And who’s the mutt? I don’t recall you hunting with anything or anyone but your brother.” He turned back to Dean at that word. “And speaking of your brother, where is Sam?”

The blood from Dean’s nose was now running down his chin and dripping onto the floor. He forced himself to look away from Sam and back at the man. _Did they know this demon?_ He sure seemed to know them. “He’s not here.”

“Come on, Dean.” The demon took a step closer to the hunter. “We both know that’s a lie,” he hissed. “We may have never actually met, but one thing I do know for certain is that you and Sammy never go your separate ways. That little fib is going to cost you.” He grinned darkly and looked at the wolf again. With a wave of his hand, Sam yelped and crumpled to the floor.

“No!” From where Dean was, he could see Sam’s chest heaving up and down. He saw the wolf look up at him from the floor, its eyes filled with pain. “Please, don’t.” There was a pleading note in his voice; he couldn’t help it; he was desperate.

“And why should I care what happens to that animal?” The demon flexed the fingers at the end of his outstretched arm into a fist and then made a twisting motion causing Sam to cry out again; he stared at Dean as he did so, still smiling “What would you have me do instead?”

The hunter turned fiery eyes toward the demon. The thing was killing Sam and looked like it was enjoying it. “Take me you son of a bitch!” _Leave Sammy alone._ Dean tried to pull free from the demonic hold, but the effort was fruitless. He glanced over at Sam again. Other than the now shallow breaths he was taking, his brother wasn’t moving. “You came here for me and you obviously got me. Bring it on,” he dared the man.

“I think I like that answer, Winchester.” The demon lowered his arm, leaving Sam alone – Dean hoped his brother would be okay – and then the man cracked his neck from side to side. “This is going to be a long night for you…but I promise I’ll stop before you die.” He lifted his hand and Dean screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

_Dripdripdripdrip._

Dean lifted his head with a groan from where it hung heavily down against his chest. It took some effort to open his eyes; one was nearly swollen shut, the other caked in blood. That damn demon had worked him over pretty good before bringing him here, wherever here was.

He was chained to an old stone wall, standing upright, shackles at both wrists and ankles. The room he was being held prisoner in was small and dark with only a solitary window set high in the wall to his right. A narrow beam of moonlight found its way through the grime-streaked glass, highlighting a stagnant puddle below a leaky pipe in the far corner of the damp room. It was freezing, too, and Dean was only in a pair of jogging pants and a thin t-shirt. (He was thankful he’d at least he’d worn them to bed.) A shiver passed through his body, but he didn’t know if it was from being so cold or from shock, maybe a little of both.

The hunter did a mental inventory of his body. Nothing felt broken. He was more bruised than anything with a few random cuts thrown in for fun. (Oh, and his insides felt like they’d been run through a blender.) Actually, he was surprised he was still alive, but for some reason the demon wouldn’t kill him (not that he didn’t appreciate that). But it was never a good thing when demons kept you around. That meant they wanted to play…and Dean had seen some of their used toys.

Once he knew he was okay for now (mostly anyway), his thoughts drifted to Sam. Dean hoped to hell his brother was still alive; there was no way for him to know. The last he knew was that Sam was unconscious on the floor of their motel room, still in wolf form. If they got taken down by Larry, Moe, and Curly, he’d never forgive himself for forgetting to put that damn salt line down last night. By the time they had gotten to Minot, Dean had been up for near on twenty-four hours straight and he had clearly made a costly mistake.

Dean had no sense of how much time had passed since their room had been raided and that left him with no idea of how long he had before he and Sam were due to change. The night sky through the window didn’t give him any clues. It was just dark.

After giving a few good yanks on the rusty chains, his face red from the exertion, Dean found he wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until daybreak. But even so, he’d still be stuck in this shithole of a room. There were several ways out of his situation, but none were looking good at the moment.

First, there was Sam. But the man would need some time; he needed time to shift back into _Sam_ and then time to actually find him. Dean wouldn’t count him out though. Sam had pulled some pretty big miracles out of his ass before. (Of course, this scenario could only come to fruition if Sam was still in one piece.)

The second, if time allowed, Dean would shift, rendering his bindings useless. _Morning had to be coming soon._ The biggest problem with this was he’d have to wait until he regained his human form to actually get out; that was still hours away. The chances of the demons staying away long enough for that were slim.

And lastly, there were the demons. If Dean could find an out, he’d take it. But with three demons against one weaponless hunter, the odds weren’t exactly in his favor.

 _Shit._ Maybe he should have listened to Sam and stayed at Bobby’s.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam twitched his nose. First one dark eye opened and then the other. The room was quiet and he was alone. Those men – _demons_ – had left and they had taken _Dean_. His wolf mind knew that much.

He tried to move, but his body hurt, ached in ways he didn’t know. That _demon_ , the one who _hurt_ _Dean_ , had done this to him. A low growl began deep in Sam’s throat and he forced himself up onto shaky legs. _Dean_ was out there – his _brother_ – and he had to find him.

Sam knew some words better than others, the most important of which were – _Dean, brother, love, protect_ – but others were gaining ground – _demons, hurt, pain…_ These last few were new to his growing vocabulary, but he was quickly learning their all too dangerous meanings.

The wolf made its way across the room and nosed at the door; it was closed tight, preventing his exit. Sam started whining and pawed at the obstacle blocking his path to _Dean_. He let out a worried bark in hopes that someone might open the barrier between him and his _brother._ Minutes passed and he let out a mournful howl.

Sam began to pace the room like a caged tiger. The wolf passed by the window several times before it took notice of it and stopped. He sat down on his haunches and stared at it, tilting his head. _Dean_ was out there.

Suddenly, Sam ran and leapt, shattering the glass upon impact, and landed roughly on the ground outside, nearly going head-on with the Impala sitting directly in front of their window. He got up and shook himself off. As he did, Sam felt a sharp _pain_ on the side of his belly, but chose to ignore it; _Dean_ was out there and he needed to be _protected._

The wolf sniffed the air. Too much time had passed since those _demons_ had taken _Dean_ from him; his _brother’s_ scent was lost to the cool night’s breeze.

Sam glanced up at the car and memories from the previous evening were awakened. _Dean_ had spent quite a bit of time driving where the sheep were _._ (Yes, Sam had taken notice of the animals.) His _brother_ had thought the _demons_ were there. The wolf began a slow lope along the sidewalk, leaving a bloody trail in his wake; he needed to get a sense of direction. Once he did, he would find _Dean._

After some searching, random things started to become familiar – sounds, smells, bright lights – and Sam’s ears pricked up. _That way._

He ran off into the night. _Protect. Dean. Brother._

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean had nodded off. He hadn’t been able to help it. A mixture of blood loss, exhaustion, and general boredom would do that to a person.

 _Scratchscratchscratch_.

The hunter lifted his head at the sound; he winced at the kink in his neck as he did. Squinting his eyes, Dean looked over to the window where the noise seemed to be coming from. The first thing he noticed was that it was lighter outside. Dawn was coming, and soon. As he eyed the window curiously, a huff of breath fogged up the outside of the glass, followed by a low whine…and more _scratchscratchscratch_.

“Sam?” Dean smiled. It was too good to be true. But then again, Sam _was_ a wolf. Wolves were better trackers and hunters than Dean could ever hope to be. “Sammy!” He risked raising his voice so his brother would know he was okay.

The noise outside the window became more persistent now; the wolf was trying to dig his way in. Dean shook his head. That wasn’t going to work. There was no way for Sam to get in except through a door, at least not while he was in wolf form. _You’re gonna have to give it a few more minutes, little brother._

And then Dean heard Sam’s worried whine turn into a low and threatening growl. The digging stopped and his brother’s shadow moved away from the window. The growl turned into a deadly snarl mixed with barking and Dean heard what sounded like the wolf having a confrontation with something. It had to be the demons. The noises became louder and fiercer as the long seconds ticked by. Dean struggled against the chains, but he was just as helpless as before. “Sam!” he yelled.

A sudden and shrill yelp caused Dean to jump. “Sammy!” He struggled further and blood began to seep from the torn flesh at his wrists making a slick and sticky mess, but he was still no closer to freeing himself. Tears sprang up in his eyes. “Oh, god, Sam…”

Anger flared up in Dean. He turned his bruised and battered face upward toward the ceiling. “You sons of bitches! So help me-”

Just then the sun rose from behind the horizon and Dean cried out.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Goddamn did he hurt. Sam’s memories were foggy at best, but he knew they were in a boatload of trouble. And it didn’t take the cold, hard-packed dirt below him to tell him that. As he came back to consciousness, he found himself lying on his side, hands tied tightly behind his back, feet bound together…and he was naked. _Wonderful._

When Sam opened his eyes, he saw three unfamiliar people nearby – two men, one woman. (The bigger of the two men had a nice wolf-sized bite taken out of his arm, causing Sam to smile. At least he didn’t go down without a fight.) The other man walked over when he noticed Sam was awake and squatted down next to him; his eyes washed out to black almost immediately. _Demons_. Sam groaned. Not just from the pain, but for the fact that this hunt had so obviously gone wrong.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t _the_ Sam Winchester,” the demon said flatly. “Now I see why your brother was so protective of the wolf when we caught up to him. Interesting. And to think I just left you back there like that. I should have known something was going on.” The man stood up and looked at his female colleague, a pretty, young woman with long, blond hair. “Olivia, check on the other one. Make sure he’s still secure. We’ll be bringing Sam in shortly.”

With the man’s attention directed elsewhere for the moment, Sam took the opportunity to begin reciting an exorcism ritual. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis- Fuck!” Sam felt a tightening inside which instantly cut off his words and he screamed out in pain.

“Now Sam, did you think it would be that easy?” The man looked back down at the hunter. “But I guess I can’t blame you for trying.” He grinned. “You know, you’ve saved me a lot of trouble by coming here. Then again, I knew once we had Dean, his shadow wouldn’t be too far behind.”

When the ache began to subside, Sam twisted on the ground, trying to see how tight the ropes were; he flinched when he felt more pain sear across his abdomen. Looking down to see how bad things were, he saw a bloody gash; it started as a shallow graze from about halfway down his rib cage, but deepened as it continued over his stomach.

“I’m afraid you did that to yourself before getting here. Looks like you lost a lot of blood, too,” the demon stated when he saw Sam looking at his injury. “In fact, it didn’t take much at all for Logan here to take you down in that lovely wolf form of yours, even after you bit him so savagely.” The smile left his face and Sam could see his jaw flex tightly. “You were fortunate that you started to change when you did or you’d be dead right now.” Derek knew he was lucky, too. If they lost a Winchester while under his watch, he’d be as good as kibble for the hounds.

“What do you want? And where’s Dean? If you-” It was hard for the young hunter to sound insolent without a stitch of clothing on.

The demon cut Sam off before he could speak any further. “Do you really think you’re in a position to threaten me, my dear hunter? I’d think twice about that if I were you.” He lifted his chin and looked down his nose with narrowed eyes. This was a waste of his time. If it weren’t for their orders, he would have wiped these pathetic hunters out of existence by now.

“Dean is alive; don’t you worry about him. And if you must know, we weren’t exactly looking for you – we had other things we were up to in this nice little town – but when your brother showed up driving that big sore thumb of his around, we were required to attend to the situation. After all, we, meaning _all_ demons, have been under direct orders to bring you two in ever since the regrettable failure of the apocalypse. – Thanks for screwing that up, by the way. Do you know what kind of problems that’s caused downstairs? I mean, it’s Hell down there.” He laughed at his own joke.

Sam ignored the demon and closed his eyes, letting his head drop back onto the ground. _Goddammit._ So it _was_ true; they were on Hell’s Most Wanted list. They’d heard rumors, but he and Dean hadn’t really believed any of it was true, even if they did piss a few people – or rather demons – off. That had been happening for years; it was nothing new.

“Logan, get him up and bring him inside. And make sure you lock him down good. Hunters can be a bitch, especially these two if we’re to go by their track record. We can’t risk them getting away before we receive further instruction.” He eyed Sam as he spoke, still amazed that this simple human had been their Father’s vessel…and still was the last he knew. Things weren’t quite over yet, not if Hell had anything to say about it.

“Yes, sir.” The man smiled as he moved in on the hunter.

“And I know you’d like to get back at him for that bite, but don’t…or you’ll pay,” the first demon said threateningly.

The two stared at each other for a space of time before the bigger man nodded and stooped to pick Sam up. “You got it, boss.” The last word dripped with a bit of loathing and sarcasm.

Sam squirmed in his bindings as the demon approached, but once again he got nowhere. All he could do was lay there helplessly and let himself be lifted from the ground like a ragdoll. With its supernatural strength, it didn’t take much effort for the demon to pick him up and toss him over his shoulder. Sam tried to bite back a cry as his wound tore open even further; he was shown no mercy as he was carried across the yard.

Just then, Olivia came running out of the house. “He’s gone, Derek! I don’t know how, but he got out somehow.”

Derek cursed and stormed past her, charging up the steps and into the house. Just as he swung the door open, sending it slamming into the wall behind it, the hawk flew out into the morning light. It circled overhead crying out. “Kree-eee-ar!” Suddenly it dove down from the air and flew at Logan’s head, talons tearing at his face.

The demon yelled out and lost his grip on Sam, dropping the hunter to the ground in a cloud of dust as he tried to fend off the attacking bird.

Sam was thankful Dean was trying to help, but the agony of falling onto his already pained side was excruciating and he instantly curled up on the ground; there was nothing he could do, not bound as he was.

“Dean, go! Get out of here,” Sam yelled at the hawk when he was able to get a breath in. The hawk was still tangling with the demon and Sam was worried Logan or one of the others would use their powers to pull his brother down. “Go!”

Finally, Dean broke away from the demon. He swooped down to Sam and brushed him lightly with the tips of his wings – it was almost a caress – and then he flew off toward the distant trees before the demons could react and do anything to him. The whole confrontation lasted less than half a minute.

From Sam’s position, he couldn’t see where Dean finally went, but he heard him. _Thank god he got away._ Before the young hunter could finish the thought, his head was wrenched up painfully by the hair. Derek was in front of him with an incensed glare on his face.

“If he doesn’t come back, you will be the one to suffer for it.” The demon glanced back over his shoulder toward the trees where Sam gathered Dean had flown off to; his grip was still tight in Sam’s hair when he looked back down at him. “Tell me how this change works.”

Sam hesitated. His eyes rolled towards the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother. Another hard yank to his hair brought his eyes back to the demon.

“Tell me,” Derek growled.                                

It sucked giving in to demons, but Sam didn’t have much of a choice in his current position. He steeled himself knowing whatever answer he gave wouldn’t satisfy the man. “I…I don’t know. It just happens. We haven’t been able to figure it out yet.”

“You’re telling me someone finally got the better of you two? Come on, Sam, I’m not stupid.” The demon lifted his hand and made a small pulling gesture at the hunter.

“Guh!” Pain swept through Sam’s body again. He twisted on the ground in agony. “Please…” It all stopped just as quickly as it began.

“I’m waiting, Sam, and I’m not a very patient man.”

Sam was wheezing. _God, it hurt to breathe_. It felt as if the demon had just crushed his lungs. “Fine,” he managed to get out in between panting breaths. “We change at sunrise and sunset. It was a-” G _oddammit. Breathe Sam_. “-shaman; he cursed us. We don’t have any control over it.”

Derek stared at Sam, then let go of him and laughed. He wasn’t too concerned about Dean just now, not really. The hunter would come back as long as they had his little brother.

“Bring him inside. Find something, maybe one of those cages out in the barn, so he stays put if he wolfs out again. We don’t know if he’s telling the truth about this change or not; he may be able to do it at will.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Dean watched as one of the _demons_ lifted _Sam_ from the ground and carried him into the house. His _brother_ was _hurt_ ; he had smelled the blood. The hawk blinked and tilted its head. There was nothing he could do now but wait, hidden in the leafy canopy of the trees. Night never felt so far away.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They had stuffed Sam into a small crate-like cage; it was more than a little uncomfortable. His hands and feet were still bound tightly and with the way he was folded into the thing, his neck was starting to cramp up; he felt like a damn pretzel. The cage wasn’t meant to hold anything bigger than a small sheep.

Sam had been locked up for a couple of hours now and he blew his bangs out of his face in frustration. He was pissed…pissed at himself for not calling this thing off when he found out this job involved demons, and pissed at Dean for thinking they could do this while in the midst of their curse.

Yeah, Dean should have known better, but the man was impulsive sometimes, especially when he was bored…and Sam knew that. But Sam… _he had no excuse_. He was usually the level-headed one of the pair (well, most of the time; he wouldn’t bring up the fact that he was the one who released Lucifer from his cage last year). “Dammit!" Sam tensed up his muscles and tried to stretch out, pushing against the bars of his undersized prison to see if he could find a weak point, but just like the many times before, there was no give.

Minutes turned into hours and Sam found himself dozing on and off. (He didn’t want to admit it, but he might have been drowsy from blood loss; the wound across his stomach was burning, reminding him all too well that it was there.) His fingers were now numb and he was nearly frozen. It was warm outside, but the cellar he was in couldn’t have been more than fifty degrees. He was thirsty and hungry, too. If they got out of this alive, he’d have to remember to thank his brother for this.

The demons hadn’t come back since caging him and that made Sam nervous. He knew they were waiting for his brother and that he was their bait. And Sam knew Dean would come; there was no question about it. “Dean, man, you better be careful,” he mumbled to himself, worried for his brother’s safety.

Some time later, Derek entered the basement and tapped on the cage, waking Sam. “It’s getting close to sunset. If you were telling the truth earlier, that means this game is about to begin. Dean will come for you and we’ll be waiting. But first,” he gestured with his hand and the cage door unlocked and opened, “I think you and I need to have a little one-on-one time. Knowing the twisted relationship you two have, Dean won’t be able to think straight if he sees you’re hurt.”

Sam tried to resist when Derek pulled him from the cage, but there was no fighting the man. He was brutally hauled out and pulled upright. His body was stiff and he tried to hide the grimace as he stood there; Sam would have towered over the man by several inches if he wasn’t hunched over in pain at the moment.

“On your knees,” Derek commanded.

The hunter stared daggers at the demon. “No.” Sam wouldn’t make this easy for the demon. If he was going to go down, he was going to go down fighting. It would only give Dean more time to try to save him.

Sam suddenly felt that damn demonic pressure. He fought against it, gritting his teeth, muscles straining, but the effort was useless. He finally succumbed to the force and fell to the floor.

“I can see you’re going be rather entertaining. You may want to think twice before defying me, Sam. Something tells me that you have a higher pain threshold than most and I’m more than happy to test out my theory.” Derek’s expression was tight and focused as he moved around behind Sam.

Sam tensed up when he felt the cold steel of a knife at his wrists, but to his surprise, the ropes were cut. A second later, he felt the same at his ankles. He brought his hands around to his front and tried to massage some circulation back into them. It was almost painful, but he knew it was nothing compared to what probably lay in store for him.

Derek came back around in front of him and stood there staring the young hunter. “You are quite the specimen.” He grinned as Sam squirmed under his gaze. Then he brought his knife up under Sam’s chin and teased the soft flesh with the tip of the blade. “You’re lucky I can’t kill you, but all I have to do is bring you in alive. They didn’t say in what condition.”

“Screw you,” Sam said defiantly, ignoring the demon’s previous threat. He flinched as Derek applied a little more pressure to the knife under his chin, breaking through skin. “You can do what you want to me, but Dean’s gonna send all of you back to Hell. You can be assured of that.”

“Oh, really.” The words came out with a sneer and, in a motion too fast for Sam to see, the knife slashed across his bare chest.

“Fuck!” Sam yelled at the flash of heat across his skin and fell back onto an extended arm breathing heavily; he instinctively brought his other arm up to protect himself from further injury.

“You know, I’ve heard you two, _the famous Winchesters,_ are supposedly the finest hunters the human world has to offer, but you haven’t impressed me yet. So far, you’ve been less than stellar.” Derek was slowly circling Sam now, bloody knife held loosely in his hand.

“Yeah, well, you know…” And before the demon saw it coming, Sam twisted and leapt up from the floor, wrapping his arms around the man’s legs and tackling him to the floor. Sam knew he probably wouldn’t get far, but he had to make some sort of an effort. If he could take the demon out just long enough to make a run for it…

Derek took the hit in stride and began to laugh. “Now there’s a Winchester. Is this how you want to play?” He rolled his body and threw Sam from him. “I don’t mind a little primitive fighting. It could be fun.” The demon stood up, dusted itself off, and focused on Sam as the hunter got down into a defensive position.

Sam risked a glance at the door. Unfortunately, he ended up on the opposite side of the room from it. The demon had known which way he was throwing Sam; it was making sure to stay between him and his only exit.

“I see the gears in that brain of yours are grinding away, but you’re not leaving, not until I say.” Derek feinted towards the hunter and grinned when Sam took a step back. And then he attacked.

Sam cried out as he was thrown back into the rough stone wall behind him. He tried to get an arm between them to pry the demon off, but found that he couldn’t. He twisted and bucked his body, but the thing had him pinned; its eyes were dark and sinister as it looked at him.

“Sam,” it said as it took a step back a moment later, “you need to put up more of a fight than that. C’mon.” Derek held his arms out wide, inviting Sam in for a free shot. “Take a shot. What do you say? A freebie, on the house.”

Sam took him up on the invitation, but instead of going straight at the demon, he side-stepped him at the last second and made a run for the door. Just as his foot hit the threshold, Sam felt that damn demonic force lift him from his feet and drop him to the floor.

The demon tsked at him. “Now, that wasn’t part of the deal. I said a fight, Sam. I didn’t say you could leave. I tried to play your way, but now we’ll play my way.”

“Fuck you!” Sam spat out as Derek approached. The young hunter had no idea how much time there was until sunset, how long he’d have to hold out until Dean got there. The demon had already said it wasn’t going to kill him, but there was a lot a one could do to a person that was much worse than death. He could see it in the demon’s eyes that he was probably going to be wishing for death before long.

Sam was still on the ground and backed away from the demon until he felt the wall come up behind him, halting any further retreat. He had nowhere to go.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The last of the sun disappeared behind the trees.

“Holy fuckin’ shit!” Dean yelled as he woke up to the sensation of falling through a tangle of tree branches. He reached out and clutched onto one to stop his sudden and fast descent to the distant ground below. When he managed to look down, he saw he was at least fifty feet up from the forest floor. He didn’t mind heights so much, but damn! Somehow he’d have to tell his bird-self that he needed to be closer to the ground at sunset…or better yet, _on_ the ground.

But he knew he had to have been up here for a reason, so he looked around from his perch high up in the elm tree. Off in the distance he could see sheep grazing in a field. A large farmhouse was on the far end of it, along with several outbuildings. There was a second, smaller house a bit farther down the road. He knew right away that this was the area he had driven through when they had gotten to Minot. This was where he had thought the demons were. “I guess I was right about that then,” he mumbled to himself.

Flashes of memories came to Dean. He remembered being chained to a wall – that Sam had found him – and then the sun had risen. After that, things got fuzzy as they usually did when he was in his hawk form, but he remembered being trapped underground (in a basement?) until someone opened a door. _Demons_ … He remembered the demons. And Sam. Full memory of the early evening’s events came back to him all of a sudden. _Shit, they had Sam!_

Dean had been helpless to do anything. He remembered Sam yelling at him to go before he got caught as well. And well…now he was in a tree and it was dark out, and he was naked with no weapon of any kind.

The motel was several miles away. By foot, it would take him probably twenty minutes to make it back to the room…that was if he ran hard. He figured he could be back here in roughly a half hour and he’d be better prepared.

Dean weighed his options. If he went in as he was now, he’d more than likely end up caught again. _Yeah, that’s not happening._ If he went back to the motel… Yeah, he knew what he had to do; there was no choice in the matter. It hurt, but Sam would agree. Dean began to climb down the tree, grimacing as the sharp bark dug into his bare skin and feet.

“Sammy, hang in there.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

It took longer than Dean had planned to get back to the room. He hadn’t taken into account that bare feet didn’t fare so well when running on pavement. (He also had to stay somewhat hidden since he didn’t want to be brought up on charges for indecent exposure.) By the time Dean made it back to the motel, it felt like his feet were on fire. It took an extra five minutes just to pick the grit out of them, including a small shard of glass that had worked its way into his heel.

He wasn’t surprised to find the broken window when he got there; Sam had clearly used that as his point of egress from the room. (Thankfully, the room was around back and the place was such a dump that the management probably wouldn’t even notice until they were long gone.) What Dean didn’t like seeing as he approached their room was the dark trail of blood on the ground. The wolf – _Sammy –_ had injured himself, and it looked like it was pretty bad considering the stains on the sidewalk. “Sam…,” he groaned and shook his head with worry.

Ten minutes was all it took to throw some clothes on and stuff their things into the Impala. Dean tossed the room key on the bed and tucked the demon killing knife in his coat pocket.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

He parked the Impala off the road in a small thicket and crossed through the trees into the yard of the first farmhouse. Dean was sure Sam was being held in one of the two houses, but no matter how hard he tried to remember which one it was, his brain wouldn’t release that important bit of information. He knew whichever house it was, the demons would be watching for him.

The nearer of the two buildings was smaller, maybe an offshoot of the larger farm; Dean figured the land was more than likely family owned. The place appeared to be empty at the moment, but he knew he couldn’t be too careful when it came to demons.

The floorboards of the porch creaked as he made his way to one of the windows. He didn’t see anything inside and it was eerily quiet. When he gave the doorknob a try, Dean found it was locked. Something in his gut told him this was the wrong place; he just wasn’t picking up anything here, no weird vibes, nothing. He didn’t bother trying to pick the lock; he knew Sam wasn’t here.

Going on instinct, Dean leapt over the porch railing and headed to the next house. Unfortunately, it was all open land between the two homes; there was nowhere to hide. He moved quickly, hoping not to be seen. When he made it to the cover of what appeared to be a small tool shed, Dean leaned up against the wall and peered around the corner at the house and its surroundings. It was quiet here, too, but he knew this was the place.

A crunch of gravel behind him had Dean whirling around, knife in hand. A large, brute of a man had snuck up behind him; red and inflamed scratches crisscrossed his features. Dean knew this guy. This was the demon whom he had attacked earlier as a hawk, the one who had been carrying Sam.

They struggled for a short while, the demon trying to get Dean to drop the knife, but the hunter held onto it knowing it was the only way he and Sam were going to get out of this alive. He managed to get them spun around and slammed the big man into the wall of the shed. (The whole structure shook from the impact.) A second later, the demon’s expression changed from one of fury to pain; he sagged against Dean as the hunter pushed the demon killing knife into his abdomen.

“Damn, you’re a heavy son of a bitch,” Dean said as he pushed the lifeless body away and wiped the blade off on his jeans. He glanced around to see if anyone else had decided to join the party, but he was alone. If he remembered correctly, there were only three of these creeps running around, so now he was down to two.

He made his way across the driveway as stealthily as an open lot would allow. The back door was probably the best way in so he aimed for the rear of the building. As he slid along the wall, trying to stay out of sight, he noticed he was walking by a small window at his feet. The basement.

Sam was more than likely locked up down there as Dean had been. Getting down to his knees, the hunter wiped the grime from the window and tried to get a glimpse inside. “Sammy, you in there?” he whispered quietly more to himself than anything.

It was too dark to see much of anything, so Dean reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his flashlight. The small beam of light didn’t help much, barely penetrating the darkness, but he could see a cage in the corner and something that looked a little too much like a certain wolf. _Sam..._ The animal made no attempt to move as Dean peered through the glass at it.

The elder Winchester was instantly up on his feet and hurrying to the door. He looked back over his shoulder before reaching down to turn the knob. It was unlocked and he pushed the door open slowly. Dean cautiously stepped inside, but just as he made it into the house, another one of Hell’s bitches came at him. This time it was the woman. The hunter made quick work of her because she obviously hadn’t seen the weapon in his hand. He propped her up against the wall. (As he did, he couldn’t help but notice the wallpaper behind her was patterned in a farm motif; he raised a brow at the cartoon cows and chickens and shook his head.) And then he was off in search of the basement door.

“Going somewhere, Dean?”

The hunter closed his eyes and stopped in his tracks. _Fuck._ Dean turned around and saw the demon from last night. “Actually, I was just stopping in for a visit.” He quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “I thought you’d have tea and crumpets or something. I’m a little disappointed. And here I thought we were old friends by now.”

“Well, you know, we demons tend to lack a little in the hospitality department.” Derek nonchalantly leaned against the doorway, crossed his feet at the ankles, and began to spin the gold wedding band on his meatsuit’s finger. “Were you thinking about visiting that brother of yours? ‘Cause if so, I don’t think he’s going to be very talkative any time soon.”

Dean took a step towards the demon, eyes flashing. “What’d you do to him?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Dean. He’s alive and won’t be dying any time soon; I assure you of that. I need both of you alive. Orders, you know. But he wanted to play a game, so we played. He cheated; I called him on it. And I won.

“It was all rather fascinating watching such a broken man going through that wonderful transformation into the animal he is now. He screamed your name the entire time.” The demon leered coldly at the hunter as he said the words.

“You son of a bitch,” Dean hissed.

“Oh, my mother could have been a bitch, but honestly, I don’t remember her, so call her what you want.” Derek stepped away from the wall and moved into the room. In his conceited arrogance, he ignored the hunter as he walked by him and crouched down to look at Olivia. “I’ll miss her. She was a lovely, little thing.” He stood back up and turned to Dean. “She had a younger sister, too, you know. And oh how she screamed when I did the things I did to her. She was practically begging me to kill her by the time I slit her throat and shut her up.”

“You’re a bunch of sick fucks, you know that?” Dean couldn’t wipe the look of disdain from his face. Demons were just pure evil. He hated hunting them, hated looking at them, but it was all worth it when he sent them back to Hell, or better yet, killed them with the knife. The problem was Hell seemed to have a never-ending supply of them.

“Dean, you shouldn’t be talking. I know about you. I know about your time _downstairs_ and how much you enjoyed it there.” Derek watched Dean as he spoke, waiting for the man’s reaction. “I know you’re not all innocent and virginal.”

“I never said I was.” Dean clenched his fingers around the knife hidden behind his back; he kept his face neutral.

The demon scrutinized the hunter a moment longer before speaking again. “I’m interested in what Mr. Alastair might have taught his star pupil. Would you care to share?” Derek slithered across the room and moved into Dean’s space, smiling caustically.

“Sure. Actually, I can show you firsthand.” Dean moved fast. He had one chance, and one chance only. The knife flashed in the darkness and dug deep into flesh; the demon’s eyes widened in surprise as Dean twisted it, causing even more pain.

“He always said ‘Move fast, never get too cocky, and don’t ever let your guard down because some things out there might still get the better of you.’ – Surprisingly enough, hunters live by those same rules.” Dean stared into the demon’s eyes steadily as he pulled up on the handle of the knife, slicing the man open further; he felt the warmth of blood pour out over his hand. The demon’s essence flashed behind the human face of the body he was wearing and then faded away.  “That’s for my brother, you conceited piece of filth.” Pulling the knife free, he let the man drop to the floor. Dean wiped the blade clean on the demon’s shirt and then spun around to go find Sam.

He felt around on the wall at the top of the basement stairs until he found the light switch and flicked it on. Dean ran down the stairs, leaping over the last five steps and rounded the corner. He stopped when he came to a closed door. It was padlocked. The hunter smirked and kicked the door open. The wood splintered and nearly fell off its hinges as it swung open. Again, he felt around for a light switch. When he flipped the light on, he almost wished that he hadn’t.

“Oh, god, Sammy.” Dean ran across the room.


	9. Chapter 9

There was blood – everywhere – on the floor, on the walls, on Sam; the room even had a hint of copper in the air. _How was Sammy even still alive after that much blood loss?_

Dean had to concentrate as he picked the lock on the cage; his fingers trembled against his will and it was taking longer than it should have. Once he got the cage open, he hesitated before attempting to move his brother. “Sammy? Hey, I got you, little brother.” He smoothed a hand over the wolf’s head; the animal’s breaths were short and ragged. “Whatever it is, we’ll get you fixed up. Nice and new. Right? Just like a thousand times before.” Dean fought the tears that were burning in his eyes.

He couldn’t take Sam to a hospital, not in this form, and no vet was going to help a wolf. If only Cas was still hiding in the bushes somewhere…but the angel had made it abundantly clear that the bastions of Heaven were done with Earth. With the apocalypse averted, the angels were forbidden to return unless God, himself, commanded it. (Apparently, there was a pretty big mess upstairs that needed to be cleaned up, too.)

“Alright, Sam. This is probably gonna hurt, but I gotta get you to the car, okay?” Dean reached in and began to pull the wolf out; his fingers slid through the still warm blood in his brother’s fur. Sam mewled, but didn’t open his eyes. It was probably better that way, Dean supposed as he tried to get a good, solid hold of the wolf. The last thing he wanted to do was drop him.

Sam wasn’t as heavy in his lupine form, but damn, he still weighed a ton. The elder Winchester grunted under the weight as he stood up and made his way up the stairs. “Dude, if I have back problems when I get older, I know who I’m gonna blame.”

It was no vacation getting the wolf to the car. Dean groaned when he got outside and realized he’d left Baby parked down the road; his mind had been elsewhere – _on Sam_ – and he’d forgotten all about the long trek he was going to have to make. “Shit.” He adjusted his grip on Sam and looked down at him; the wolf’s head hung limply over his arm. “Hang in there, dude. Forgot I had to hide the car.” Dean trudged on solemnly.

After he got his brother wrapped in an old blanket and tucked safely into the backseat, Dean checked his watch. There wasn’t enough time to make it back to Sioux Falls before the sun was due to rise. That meant Sam was going to have to do some recouping on his own tomorrow and Dean wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea. The man would be alone with any number of things wrong with him.

Bobby wasn’t going to like it, but Dean resigned to give the man a call once he found somewhere for them to hunker down, and after he got Sam stabilized. Maybe the hunter would be willing to come up for a day or two, just until they were sure Sam was going to be okay. Dean felt like they were relying on Bobby a little too much lately, but he was all they had left; demons had killed everyone else in their lives, the last being Ellen and Jo.

Dean slid in behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition; a motel a few towns over would have to suffice, then he’d do what he could for Sam until sunrise. After glancing over his shoulder one last time, Dean put the car in gear and got her onto the road.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

After Dean’s initial assessment, it looked like Sam suffered from multiple lacerations, mostly to his upper body and torso, and several broken ribs. (He could only imagine the number of bruises hidden underneath the thick, brown fur.) There might have been another damn concussion as well, but it was hard to tell given that his brother was a wolf at the moment. But he was sure there was no severe internal damage since that bastard had said he needed them alive for whatever sick reason. For once, Dean hoped a demon was actually telling the truth.

Dean set to work. It was going to take some time to get Sam patched up, but he’d do what he had to. He went to his bag and took out the first aid kit. And then, with a heavy sigh, Dean pulled his razor out. This was going to be a first.

A couple of hours later, Sam looked like absolute shit – patches of hair missing where stitches were, white gauze wrapped tightly around his chest – but he was still holding on. After Dean got everything packed away, he finally made the call to Bobby. It was nearly two in the morning, but the man could deal with it.

“What?” a grumpy, sleep-laden voice answered.

“Bobby, it’s me,” Dean’s voice was quiet. “Can you get up here to Velva, North Dakota? Things got seriously fucked up.”

“Aw, Dean.” Dean could hear the man shifting and probably getting out of bed through the line. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, just rub it in a little more. Fuck.” Dean ran his hand up through his hair and looked down at Sam. His brother’s breathing had evened out somewhat; it wasn’t so forced and shallow anymore, but it still wasn’t normal enough to satisfy the elder Winchester. “Look, they got the jump on us before we even stepped foot out the door last night. We didn’t even have a chance. Anyway, I just got Sam back from the sons of bitches; they just about damn near killed him. I lost count on how many stitches I just put in ‘im.”

“Dammit,” Bobby drawled out. “And what about you? Are you okay?” The older hunter could hear the strain in Dean’s voice.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. – So you think you can get up here? Sam’s gonna need help when he gets up in the morning. He’s got a few broken ribs along with everything else – and he’s lost a lot of blood.” _Too much_. Flashes of the bloody room entered Dean’s mind and he tried to force them back. “He’s not doing so hot; been out cold for hours, not even a sound. – I’m worried about him, Bobby.”

Bobby knew things were in a bad way just from the man’s tone alone. He could probably list all the times he’d heard Dean sound like this, and it wasn’t many. “Balls.” He sighed, giving in. “Okay. Just give me some time to wake up and get caffeinated and then I’ll get up there as quick as I can. That’s what, seven hours from here? Figure I should be there around ten or eleven. Sam’s gonna have some time on me, just so you know.”

“I can give him something to keep him sleeping around six or so. It should to keep him down long enough.”

“And you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Really, Bobby, I’m good. Just a few cuts and bruises; nothing to worry about.” _Nothing like Sam._

“Alright, son. – What about them demons?”

“I took care of it.” Dean didn’t elaborate; he knew he wouldn’t have to.

“Well, that’s good, at least. – What’s the name of the place you’re at?”

“It’s the Twilight Motor Inn, just off 52. Room 9. The room’s booked for a few nights. I’ll let the front desk know to leave a key for you.”

“Okay. Get some rest, ‘cause no matter what you’re tellin’ me, you still sound like shit, Dean.”

“Yeah, you got it. I’ll see you tonight.”

They hung up and Dean made a quick call to the front office. After, he lay down next to Sam on the bed. His brother would kill him if he knew how bad he looked right now. At least Dean didn’t have to shave any hair on the wolf’s head. Who knew how that would translate over into his human form? A smile made its way onto Dean’s face at that thought. _Sam and his damn hair._

Dean reached over and set the alarm for six. That would give him enough time to get a couple of sleeping pills into his brother before he changed. They were good for a few extra hours’ sleep.

“Sleep tight, Sammy.”

It didn’t take long for the elder Winchester to drift off to sleep, one arm draped across his eyes, the other resting on his brother, fingers buried deep in his fur.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sounds of movement in the room caused Sam to stir. He turned over and almost squashed Dean in the process. His brother was sleeping, nestled closely up against his side in his hawk form.

Then a question rang out in Sam’s mind. _If Dean was next to him, who the hell was in their room?_ He kept still a moment longer, listening. Knowing Dean would never leave him unarmed, Sam slowly moved his hand under the pillow for his gun, feeling the cold steel of it against his fingertips.

Bobby saw the motion and spoke up before Sam could pull whatever weapon was hidden under the pillow on him. “It’s just me, Sam. Go back to sleep.”

 _Bobby? Wow, things must’ve been bad if he was here._ Ignoring the man’s words, Sam made to sit up, only to wince at the pull of stitches in more places on his body than he dared to acknowledge; the room spun with an instant bout of dizziness as the pain of mangled ribs in his chest seized him.

“Don’t either of you two _ever_ listen?” Bobby’s brows pinched into a frown and he stared at Sam until the man moved to lie back down. “That’s better. You just get some more rest. You’ll feel better for it later.”

Sam settled back into the bed, but had to ask. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to babysit you pair of idjits, that’s what. Looks like those demons came pretty close to beatin’ you two on this one.”

Sam quickly looked down at the hawk. _Was Dean hurt?_

Bobby knew what Sam was thinking and spoke up before the young hunter could ask. “He’s fine, Sam. Just a little banged up if he was tellin’ the truth. Dean was more worried about you than anything, asked me to come up and keep an eye on things since he can’t, not like that anyway.” He gestured at the hawk.

“This is all my fault. I should’ve said no to him, but he wanted back on the job so bad.”

“Well, let’s not get our panties in a twist about that right now. What’s done is done. We can talk after you get some more sleep. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours for lunch.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Bobby.” Sam was tired, almost _drugged_ tired. He wondered if Dean had given him something to keep him asleep. _Probably_.

The older hunter watched as Sam rolled back over. The young man pulled Dean back up against his side a little too lovingly. Bobby lifted his brow. _Nah._ His old mind had to stop going there.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam fed Dean a good amount of meat from his grinder that afternoon. The bird was hungry because Dean hadn’t eaten in more than a day; Sam was pretty much in the same ballpark.

“So, did he tell you what happened? I don’t remember much.” Sam took a sip of his ice water. He was still more than a little tired from everything that had happened, but he felt like he was going to be okay.

Bobby finished chewing and swallowing the last bite of his meatball grinder before answering. “Not much, just that they came across you two first somehow.”

Sam had a vague recollection of the demon mentioning seeing the Impala then. “They saw the car.”

“That makes sense. Every damn thing out there knows that car by now. But the same goes for you boys. They know your faces, so there’s really no hidin’ you two when you’re in town.”

Sam smiled. It was true. “Yeah, I guess not.” He picked another piece of roast beef off his half-eaten sandwich and fed it to Dean. “We’re on their Most Wanted List, you know.”

“What?” the elder hunter asked as he wiped a smear of sauce off his beard with a napkin.

“They’re looking for us, Bobby. At least that’s what the one demon told me. We’re wanted alive though, so that’s probably the only reason we’re still here and not dead.”

“Shit.” Bobby tossed the napkin down on the table and leaned back in his chair with a groan. He wondered how long _this_ chase was going to go on for. He reached over and picked up his beer, draining the last of it. “Well, I guess that’s not surprising after you two went screwin’ up their plans for world domination, slappin’ their Daddy back in the cage and all.” Bobby began to gather up their wrappers and got up to throw them away. “Well, aside from all that, how are you feeling? Lord, you must have a couple hundred stitches goin’ on there. And broken ribs on top of that.”

“I’m stiff, sore, but I think I’ll live.”

“And how’s the head?”

“It’s fine. Just tired, is all.”

Bobby watched him closely, knowing from experience that both men tended to lie about their well-being. But Sam appeared to be telling the truth, not even that little tick at the corner of his mouth, which was a sure tell on the man, made itself known. “Well, why don’t you finish up here and then go rest up a little more. I’ll take Dean out to stretch his wings for a bit.”

Sam nodded. He reached over to pet Dean and the hawk nuzzled up against his hand. Sam smiled. They still had another four days before they could be together again.

It took some coercion, but they finally got Dean to go outside. The bird part of him needed the fresh air and sunshine even though the human part of him resisted. Bobby may have had to manhandle him just a little in the end. And for that, he was on the receiving end of one of those angry, green-eyed glares. Fortunately, even as a hawk, Dean knew better than to bite the man.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Evening came and Sam was still asleep when the change happened. Nothing more than a few small whimpers escaped from between his lips. Bobby was thankful for that and he made mental note to make sure Sam was asleep at sunrise and sunset until his ribs were better able to handle the transformation.

Bobby had put the hawk in the bathroom with a stack of fresh clothes. Dean came out fully clothed a couple minutes later.

“How’s he doing?” were the first words out of Dean’s mouth when the bathroom door opened.

“He’s gonna be okay. Just needs some time to heal.” Bobby glanced over at the sleeping wolf, then back at Dean. “He slept right through the change, both this morning and now. It’s a good thing, considering those ribs.” The older hunter observed the bruising on Dean’s face, but knew better than to question the man. Dean had already said he was fine and Bobby knew from experience that no more would be said on the subject. “You know, you got lucky taking out three demons all on your own like that.”

Dean heard the admonishment behind the statement, but didn’t rise to it. “It’s what we came here to do, Bobby. We knew the risks.” He ran a hand up through his hair as he stood in the middle of the room. “Look, thanks for coming up to keep an eye on Sam. I appreciate it.”

“Any time, Dean. You know I’ll do anything for you two when I can.” Bobby had gotten up and was in the kitchenette working on a fresh pot of coffee. He filled the glass container with water and then turned to Dean. “I hate to ask, but how exactly did those demons get in your room in the first place? What the hell happened up there?”

 _Awesome. Bobby had to pick up on that._ “I was tired and I screwed up. I forgot to put down the lines.”

“Dean…” Bobby just shook his head as he poured the water into the coffee maker and turned the machine on.

“How was I supposed to know they’d be lookin’ for us? Give me a break here, alright. I’m entitled to fuck up once in a while. We don’t always put lines down anyway; you know that.”

Dean smoothed his hand down over his mouth and looked at Sam. The wolf looked a hell of a lot better than he had the previous night. As he stood there, he sent a prayer up to whomever. This curse had to end…soon. If it didn’t, he was going to go crazy. Dean wiped at unshed tears with a thumb and forefinger.

“Dean, what’s bothering you, son? I can see something’s going on in that head of yours.”

The young hunter blinked to clear his eyes. He looked down at the floor, thoughts running a million miles a minute through his mind. His heart began to pound in his chest, in his ears, because of the words that were sitting at the tip of his tongue.

Dean looked at Sam as he swallowed the nerves down and said, “I love him, Bobby.”

 _No, he couldn’t mean that._ Bobby pushed the thought away.“Well, of course you do, Dean. He’s your brother.”

Dean turned to the older hunter, his father figure for the last how many years, even before their father had died. He looked straight at the man as he spoke. “Don’t give me that crap. You know exactly what I mean. I can see it in your eyes right now.”

Bobby was at a loss for words; he couldn’t deny it. He lifted his cap and scratched his head, replacing the hat a moment later. “Well…,” he cleared his throat as he leaned up against the counter, “yeah, I suppose I’d be lying if I said no. I guess I’ve seen it, but I never really thought you two…” He trailed off and looked between Dean and the wolf. “How long?”

“Just over two years.”

There was another brief space of silence as _everything_ Bobby picked up on over the last couple of years started to fall into place. Those square pegs were suddenly fitting into round holes.

At the man’s lack of response, Dean asked, “Aren’t you going to say anything, kick my ass or something?” He was looking anywhere but at the older hunter.

“Dean…” Bobby took a deep breath and gave Dean’s revelation some more thought before he spoke again. He chose his words carefully. “We all know this life ain’t pretty. There’s no _normal_ in it. You and Sam will most likely never get the chance to settle down. And what other person would ever understand what you two have been through, what you’ve both become because of it? I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’m not really surprised this happened.”

“So,” Dean looked up from the ugly, brown carpet and looked at Bobby, “you’re not mad?”

“Love isn’t a choice, Dean. You’re both consenting adults. Who am I to say anything about what you do? You two saved the world for cryin’ out loud. You can do anything you damn well please as far as I’m concerned. – And now that I think about it, that ‘matters of the heart’ stuff is starting to make a whole hell of a lot more sense, too.”

Dean hadn’t moved from his place in the middle of the room. He just continued to stand there, gnawing on his bottom lip. _What did he just do?_ He’d just freakin’ _admitted_ to Bobby that he was in an incestuous relationship with his brother. Dean looked at the wolf. Sam was going to kill him when he found out.

“Dean?”

The younger hunter pulled his eyes off Sam and looked back at the man. He’d never felt so unsure of himself before and it was a strange feeling.

Bobby pushed off from the counter where he was resting and walked across the room. He brought a hand up to Dean’s shoulder and, in a fatherly gesture, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Dean. What you’ve just told me has got to make this whole deal so much harder on you two. I can’t possibly imagine what you’re going through.” He dropped his hand and looked between the two men he had come to consider his own over the last, god what, twenty or so years.

Dean nodded. He was still having a hard time looking the man in the eye after his confession. “Just don’t tell Sam that I told you. That’s on me; I’ll let him know.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Dean finally shifted. “If it’s okay, I think I’m gonna go out for a walk.” He needed some air…and fast.

“You do what you need to. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam must’ve been tired. He couldn’t remember being awake much at all through the night. When he woke up the next morning, he was himself again. He had slept through the last few changes and was glad he did. That night the demon had beaten him and broken his ribs had been the worst yet.

As he sat up in bed, he saw right away that Bobby was packing his things. “You’re leaving?”

“It’s a lot easier for an old coot like me to make the drive during the day. Dean says he’s gonna drive you two back tonight.”

“Oh.”

“You need another day of rest, but I think you’re gonna be alright. My recommendation to you two is to stay away from demons for a while, at least until you’re back to normal. And by normal I mean no longer animals at any time of the day or night.”

Sam grimaced as he stood up. There was no easy way around the pull of his body against his aching ribs as he did so, but he couldn’t stay in bed all day long…plus he had to take a leak.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend any hunting at all, but we know it’s in you, so it’s inevitable that you boys will be back out on the road again once you’re all healed up.”

“We’ll keep it down to simple stuff. I promise.” Sam smiled.

Bobby picked up his overnight bag. “Alright then. I’ve freshened up the salt lines around the windows. Make sure the door is good after I leave.” He opened the door to leave, but stopped for a moment and just looked at Sam. He still couldn’t believe what Dean fessed up last night. When Sam started to look uncomfortable, Bobby nodded. “I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow some time then.” He walked out, closing the door behind him. A minute or two later, Sam could hear the man’s Chevelle start up and leave.

Sam had no idea what that last look was all about, but he shrugged it off as he went to the door and straightened out the line. Sometimes Bobby could be a little strange. Lord knew him and Dean weren’t always normal. He grinned at the thought of some of the stuff they’d done over the years that probably drove the man crazy.

He was about to head off to the bathroom when Dean let out a cry from by the bed, causing him to look over to see what was going on. The hawk nosed Sam’s cell phone which was sitting on the nightstand. Sam frowned as he watched the bird. “What is it, Dean?” When his brother didn’t give up and nudged the device again, Sam walked over to see what he wanted. When he neared the small table, Sam saw that the notification light on his phone was flashing. There was a message.

It was from Dean. Sam looked down at the bird and it stared back up at him intently, blinking once. Whatever was on the message had to be something his brother didn’t want Bobby to have to relay to Sam. He dialed into his voicemail and brought the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Sammy.” (It was the strangest thing, hearing Dean talk when the hawk was sitting not two feet away.) Sam could hear the sound of traffic in the background. Dean had been outside when he had left the message. “I really wish I could hear your voice right now. – God, I almost lost you last night, Sam. Please don’t hate me for this, but,” Dean’s voice was edged with trepidation and uncertainty, “I told him. I told Bobby…about us.” A heavy sigh filled the line, and then, “I know we said we’d talk about it again before we told him anything, but after last night…if something happens to us, I wanted someone besides you and me to know how much we love each other. God, I sound like you, Loverboy.” There was a small laugh. “He didn’t kick my ass like I thought he would. Hell, he took it pretty good, said he’s okay with it and that he understands. I’m under the impression that he already had his ideas, but he just never put all the pieces together. But anyway, I just wanted to let you know he knows. – I love you, Sam.”

The call ended.

 _Holy shit! Bobby knows._ He was stunned. Now he understood why Bobby had looked at him like that. Sam looked at the hawk which was now sitting quietly on a pillow at the head of the bed. “Dean.” He didn’t know what to say.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

That night they left. As Dean was grabbing his keys and phone off the table, he noticed he had a message. He knew it had to be from Sam. Pulling the curtain back, he saw the wolf sitting patiently next to the Impala. Thank god it was dark out or people would be freaking out seeing something like that sitting out there. Sam wouldn’t exactly pass as a sweet, little puppy.

Dean hesitated briefly before bringing the phone up to his ear. He could imagine what Sam had to say about what he’d done. Finally, he pushed the button to play the message and listened as he looked at the animal, his brother. “I love you, too.” That was all it said…no argument, no scolding for letting the proverbial cat out of the bag, just “I love you, too.”

Dean smiled as he opened the door and headed out to the car. He scratched Sam on the head before pulling the driver’s side door open and allowing the wolf to jump in before him. “Get comfy, Sammy. We got a long ride ahead of us.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They arrived back in Sioux Falls without incident. When Sam came downstairs the next morning, Bobby wasn’t home. The man had left a note on the kitchen table saying he had to meet a hunter over near Des Moines to drop something off and that he’d be back by early evening if everything went as planned.

Sam was still a bit stiff and didn’t do much aside from flip through some old books from Bobby’s shelves. By late afternoon, he found himself absently leafing through a volume on ancient Native American lore. It wasn’t one that Sam recalled ever seeing before, and he knew most of Bobby’s books from perusing them over the last four years or so. This particular text had been hidden on a bottom shelf behind a few other books on potions and witchcraft.

His eyes were more or less just passing by words on the pages until a particular passage about halfway through the book caught his attention. The last few pages had been mostly about Native American woodworking and how they would carve totems of animals representing a person’s soul. It was basically stuff he already knew, but this one paragraph made Sam feel like he had just slammed into a brick wall. He stopped and re-read it several times. What it said was that totems may have actually originated in Asia, especially in _shamanistic_ religions – not from the Native Americans as he had always thought – and had spread across the rest of the world over the years.

Totems… He got up quickly to retrieve the figurine from upstairs. Sam had tucked it safely into a drawer in their bureau. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He stared at the two small pieces resting in his hand. The damn carving was a miniature totem what with the way the hawk sat atop the wolf’s shoulders the way it did…well, before they broke it anyway.

When Sam came back downstairs, he immediately got the laptop up and running. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, typing in the word “totem” and he started researching the various meanings of the animals that they represented.

Hawks were listed as: leaders, strategic, cunning, and observant. They were even mentioned as being impulsive from time to time. Most of that fit Dean to a tee.

He pulled up wolves next. They were listed as: loyal, patient, intuitive, wise, and creative problem solvers; their loyalty being unbreakable. Sam felt like he was reading about himself.

This totem represented _them._ It was the biggest clue the Wu had given them. It had been right under their noses all along. Sam could have smacked himself. If he had caught on earlier, he would have looked at everything from a completely different angle.

And souls… _Fuck._ Something to do with their souls had to be repaired, made whole again. Sam scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. If this actually went that deep…

If only they could figure that _something_ out, then they could work on the second half of the shaman’s riddle. But at least now Sam knew why they were changing into the animals that they were, not _because_ of the carving, but because these two animals were representative of _who_ he and Dean were at another whole level of being.

It was almost as if the Wu had known all along that they would be in his store and had planned for this. It wouldn’t actually surprise Sam with all the shit they’d seen. It was just too coincidental otherwise. Freaky ass shaman… _Did the man think he was helping them in some way?_ If Sam ever saw the guy again, he’d tell him to mind his own damn business.

Sam looked at his watch. He only had another hour before the sun went down. _Where had the day gone?_ He pulled out a piece of notebook paper and scratched down a few notes for Bobby. Tucking it into the book like a bookmark, Sam left the text on the man’s chair and then went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and take the sleeping pill which was waiting for him on the counter compliments of Dean. He needed to get to sleep before the sun set, otherwise his ribs would pay the price.

“C’mon, Dean.” Sam held his arm out for the hawk before heading up the stairs. Dean landed gracefully on the extended limb, being careful not to injure his brother with his sharp talons.

Sam lay down with much on his mind. The Wu’s words drove him crazy because he knew it all came down to him and Dean; he’d known it from the beginning, even if he had been on the wrong path all along. He fell asleep thinking about their relationship and how it fit into all this.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Bobby was sitting at his desk when Dean came downstairs; the man’s hair was still wet from his recent shower.

“Hey, Bobby. I’m gonna make something to eat. You hungry?”

“Not if you’re cooking.” The older hunter glanced up over the top of his glasses. He smiled at Dean’s expression. “Oh, don’t go getting all outta sorts. It was just a joke. Of course, I’ll take something if you’re doing the cooking. There’s burgers in the fridge; the grill’s out back if you’re up to it.”

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Dean grinned. Burgers on the grill were in his top ten favorite foods. He turned to head into the kitchen, but stopped when Bobby called out to him.

“Your brother found some interesting stuff while he was up today.” Bobby tapped the book in front of him. “It’s not a cure, so don’t get too excited, but he found out a bit about the hawk and wolf you two are turnin’ into. Looks like they’re the animal forms of your souls. He’s not sure how that figurine fits into it, but made note that he thinks the shaman purposely gave it to you as a clue.

“The more I’m going through all this, and with you recently enlightening me about what it is that’s going on between you two, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s a physical representation of your souls. Right now, with the figure broken, it means your souls are separate from one another. When you two find out how to fix whatever it is that needs fixin’, your souls will re-connect and the figurine will become whole again, hence the first part of the shaman’s riddle: ‘You will have to fix what is broken before it can be considered whole again’. It’s hard to believe, Dean, but I think this whole thing means you two are soul mates. Somehow you boys managed on goofing that up and have to repair that connection by learning some lesson. That’s the second part: ‘You have many things yet to learn in life…especially those that involve the heart’.”

“Shit, Bobby.” Dean walked over to the man’s desk and spun the book around. He picked up Sam’s notes and scanned them. Goddamn, Sam. Leave it to him to figure this stuff out. _Soul mates?_ _Holy fuck._ Apparently there was more to their relationship than just falling for his little brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are really hardcore fans, you will spot a line or two from Swan Song in this chapter (so I obviously give Kripke credit for that). I happened to be watching that ep the other night when I was having trouble with a spot and it was like it was meant to be. I was already halfway there; it just helped me complete the thought :)

Day thirty-five, their fifth day together…and they freely spent a good portion of it with each other now that Bobby knew about them.

Both Sam and Dean swore that they would figure the curse out this time around. Neither wanted to change again; they were done with this. But if they were honest with themselves, they still had no idea what they needed to do to solve their little problem.

Once again, the brothers were sitting on the grass out back; it had become their place of refuge. The sun was starting to peek out from behind a field of big, fluffy cumulus clouds floating overhead and the birds were off in the forest singing their morning songs. It was forecasted to be another beautiful day, the last for a while because a front was due to come through, bringing fall with it finally. Dean was ready for the cooler months ahead as autumn was his favorite time of year; Sam tended to agree.

The elder Winchester was sitting on the ground, sprawled back on extended arms with his legs crossed in front of him and Sam was lying with his head resting in his brother’s lap. They had spent much of the morning discussing their curse, but by the end of the conversation, they hadn’t gotten any further than they had previously.

After a while, Dean looked down at his brother. “What’s going through that head of yours?” He reached down and moved Sam’s long bangs out if his face; they were a soft, golden brown under the afternoon sun.

Sam’s hazel eyes turned toward Dean. “It’s this ‘soul mate’ thing. You _do_ know I don’t need some higher power to tell me that we’re meant to be, right?” He was a little worried. For some reason, Dean still harbored doubts about Sam’s true intentions in their relationship (the argument back in Illinois right after the Wu being the most recent reminder), and now there was this.

“Yeah, Sammy. I think that whole thing has finally settled with me. I was just always worried I pushed you into this, you know. I mean, I _did_ kiss you first.”

Sam smiled and reached up to pull Dean down to meet him halfway. He pressed his lips to his brother’s and held him there for a minute before pulling away.

“I don’t think I ever told you, but I was planning on kissing you that night.” Sam’s eyes twinkled as he looked up at Dean. “God, I was so nervous.”

Dean trailed a finger lightly down the side of Sam’s cheek. “You were nervous? What do you think I was? I was about ready to have goddamn coronary that night. Here I was, protective, big brother about to _kiss_ my innocent, little brother. And I had no idea whether you were going to deck me for it and never talk to me again, or…well, this.” He grinned.

“For the record, I’m glad you did it.” Sam’s dimples deepened. He sat up with a wince as the motion tugged at his broken ribs.

“Slow, Sam. Don’t go hurtin’ yourself on my account.” Dean held a hand up to Sam’s back as he slowly moved upright.

“Remember that conversation we had in the car?”

Dean’s brow furrowed. _Which conversation? Ohhh, that one._ “Yeah, Sam. I do.”

“And?”

“And you’re right.” Dean let his gaze drift off to the trees at the edge of the property; he spied the bright red of a cardinal up in the branches. In roughly thirty-two hours, that would be him up there again, a freakin’ bird. “You know,” he finally said as he continued to look at the bird, “watching out for you…it’s kinda been my job. But more than that, it’s…it’s kinda who I am. You’re not a kid anymore, Sam, and I can’t keep treating you like one; you’re my _partner_ now and I realize that. Maybe I gotta grow up a little, too. Just give me some time; we both know I’ll have my hang-ups, but I’ll get there.” He pulled his gaze from the trees and looked at his brother; the man’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Hey, don’t.” Dean reached over and brushed a stray tear away with his thumb. “I love you, Sam. I know I’m not the easiest person to be with, but I just want to make sure you’re safe…and happy. You come before everything else.”

This was what Sam had wanted to hear for so long, that his brother loved him for the _man_ he was, that Dean would see him as his equal. Sam couldn’t help it; it was as if the flood gates had opened and the tears fell whether he wanted them to or not. This was a side of Dean that he hardly ever saw, the serious, mature, grown-up Dean; it was like a rare gem. And the man’s love for Sam was clear in those brilliant emerald eyes of his.

“Sam, c’mon. What’s wrong?” Dean was getting confused. The more he was talking, the more emotional Sam was becoming.

“Can we just… I need you right now.” Sam glanced over at the house and then back to Dean. “Not here though.” He took a deep breath, wiped the moisture from his cheeks, and then swept his hair from his face.

“Sure, we can get outta here; anything you want.” Dean hopped up to his feet and leaned over to help his brother get up. _The next three weeks were going to be long for Sam._ “Go ahead and get in the car. I’ll grab a few of our things and fend Bobby off.”

Sam let out a small laugh. The idea that Bobby now knew about this was still _weird._ What was even stranger was the fact that the man seemed to be okay with it…said he was anyway. But it was better that he knew. The old hunter had nearly given his life on more than a few occasions just to save their asses; to hide something from him just didn’t feel right. But both brothers agreed it was probably best to hold off on the PDA; they didn’t want to push it.

“Okay. That sounds…yeah.” He managed to nod. Sam felt like they were doing this all over again for the first time; he actually felt a little shy about it. His brother was making an effort and that felt good.

They made the short walk through the scrap yard toward the house. Before going in, Dean pulled Sam into his arms and gave him another quick kiss. “Just give me a couple of minutes,” he said as he turned away and ran up the steps and through the door.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Bobby looked up from his tedious task of translating of an old Hebrew exorcism ritual when Dean came in from outside. “I was wonderin’ where you went off to. If you boys aren’t up to anything this afternoon, we should spend some time going over Sam’s latest findings now that we’re all together, see if we can figure out what it is you two need to fix.”

“Sorry, Bobby. We’re heading out, see if we can do some fixin’ on our own.” Dean didn’t bother to expand on the notion. Bobby could figure it out without the details.

“Oh, okay,” and then, “Ohhh.” The man literally blushed at his realization.

Dean left him to his embarrassment and took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time; he didn’t want to keep Sam waiting. There was an excitement flooding his system, not for the fact that he was going to get laid (nope, that didn’t even need to happen), more like their relationship was taking a turn. It was heading to a different level, somewhere Dean never realized it could go. Sure it was going to take more effort, but if it was going to make the two of them happier than they had been… The time was long overdue to step it up from a “brothers with benefits” relationship to a genuine, adult partnership.

It took all of three minutes to throw an overnight bag together and Dean was back down the stairs in a flash. As he ran through the study, Bobby looked up at the man.

“You boys have a good time.” The older hunter had to stop himself from saying “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” because….no, just not going there. This was certainly going to take some getting used to, but he could do it for Sam and Dean; they were nothing but good people.

Dean practically stumbled at Bobby’s words and the meaning behind them. _If someone had told Dean a month ago that Bobby would know about him and Sam, and that he would be okay with it…_ “We’ll be back in the morning sometime…well, whenever Sam decides to get up and get his butt in gear, anyway.”

Before he was out the door, Dean veered off into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge. He pulled a six-pack out and then finally made his way out. “I’ll replace ‘em. Don’t worry,” he called out as the door slammed shut behind him.

Bobby was left in the aftermath of the whirlwind that was Dean, but he smiled. _Damn kids…_

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Too many people in Sioux Falls knew them, knew that they were brothers, so they checked in at a motel down in Harrisburg. It, by far, wasn’t the cheapest place, but it wasn’t the most expensive either. Their funds were still limited, especially of late since they hadn’t really been on the road at all during the last month or so…and, much to his chagrin, Dean may have forgotten to apply for the new credit cards they so badly needed. (But in his defense, he’d had a lot on his mind since this whole deal started.) The place had clean sheets and spotless bathrooms, and the shower was even big enough for two. If they didn’t have to worry about the change, Dean might have reserved the place for more than one night.

It felt strange being in a motel without their entire wardrobe stuffed into duffels, or Sam’s laptop, or the weapons bag. Tonight was for them and only them. The supernatural world was put on hold until further notice. Nothing mattered but Sam and Dean.

“So,” Dean said as he dropped the one duffel he had brought with them onto the foot of the bed and then meandered into the kitchen to put the beer into the fridge.

Sam was standing quietly on the other side of the bed; Dean didn’t miss the tension in the man. He walked around the end of the bed and stepped up to the man. His brother wasn’t looking at him. The elder Winchester reached up and lifted Sam’s chin so he would look at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Sammy? I thought this was what you wanted. ‘Cause I gotta tell you, now that it’s in my head, it’s all I want. It scares the crap outta me, but it is.”

“It _is_ what I want, Dean. It’s just…I’ve wanted this for so long. Not for you to change, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve just been waiting for you to _want_ this, too. Sometimes I wondered if you ever would. You just seemed so happy with the way things have been, me just being your little brother that you’re having a good time with.”

Dean was caught a little off-guard with that. _That’s how Sam felt about the way things had been for the last two years?_ Shit. He wrapped his hand around the back of Sam’s head and threaded his fingers through the man’s silky hair. Pulling him down, he kissed him, gently at first, licking and sucking at his brother’s lips, and then finally pushing his way in, taking what he’d missed since the last time they had this. Dean had almost lost Sam and that thought added a bit of desperation to the kiss. He circled his other arm around Sam’s waist and pulled the man into him, embracing him.

Sam groaned and Dean immediately pulled away. “Dammit. I hurt you, didn’t I?” He glanced at his brother’s rib cage which he knew to be tightly wrapped under the button-down shirt he currently wore.

The younger Winchester darted his tongue over his lips and frowned. “Uh, no.” He shook his head as he stared down at Dean’s plump lips, wishing they were still on him, and then up to his brother’s beautiful eyes. _How did Dean get those damn eyelashes?_ Sam’s mind wandered briefly before he went on. “Actually, it felt good. I’ll let you know if you’re hurting me, okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay.” And then he jumped when Sam moved in and kissed him; he wasn’t prepared for that. Dean might top in this relationship, but he liked it when his brother got all controlling like this, and his jeans were instantly several sizes too small. He opened wide and let the man claim him. Sam’s tongue slipped in, hot and slick. Dean felt his legs wobble beneath him, but Sam was there holding him up. It was Dean’s turn to moan into the kiss this time.

They finally had to break away to catch their breath, Sam more so than Dean. No matter how much his brother claimed his ribs weren’t bothering him, Dean knew they had to be sore; it had been just under a week since the demon attack.

Dean decided very quickly that they needed to be freed from the confines of their clothing. Whatever they ended up doing – and it certainly looked like sex was on the menu – clothes certainly didn’t need to be there; they always seemed to just get in the way. He pulled his t-shirt up and over his head and then began to unbutton Sam’s shirt. He felt the man’s hand move to the button on his jeans and start to unfasten it; the zipper was down in a heartbeat, and then Dean groaned and rocked up into the soft touch that his brother feathered over him through his boxers. “Fuck, Sammy. I need you so bad.”

With the final button undone on Sam’s shirt, Dean pushed it from his shoulders and let the light material flutter softly to the floor. As soon as that was out of the way, he began to work on his brother’s belt buckle and then his jeans.

That was when Sam leaned down and licked a wet trail up the side of his neck, ending with a light nibble at his ear lobe. “Dean,” the word came out on a hot breath, “let me fuck you…please.”

“Shit. I need… yeah, bed, now.” Sam’s words were too much for Dean and he couldn’t even form a rational sentence. He kicked off his pants and dropped his boxers. (Sam didn’t need to bend over any more than he had to.)

For some reason Sam needed this. Letting Dean fuck him was great, even preferred, but today he needed to claim Dean. By his brother letting him do this, it helped to go a long way towards their equality in this relationship; it reinforced the fact that Dean trusted Sam even when he was at his most vulnerable. More than likely, later tonight Dean would be back in his usual position – Sam hoped so at least – and he shivered just thinking about it.

Dean’s body was flushed pink as he sprawled out on the bed and Sam felt his cock twitch at the sight. He finished where his brother had left off trying to unfasten his pants and let them drop to the floor.

The duffel was still at the foot of the bed and Sam unzipped the side pocket where he knew Dean kept the lube. He glanced over at his brother as he pulled the tube out and saw the man’s lust blown eyes staring at him. For someone who always insisted on topping, Dean sure looked damn needy. Sam smiled as he pushed the bag off the side of the bed and then crawled up between Dean’s spread legs.

“God, Dean. You’re gonna make me get off before I even touch you.” Sam lowered himself carefully and breathed in Dean’s musky scent; he let his tongue trace a line up his brother’s hard shaft. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” As if to prove it, Dean rocked up into Sam’s teasing touches. He still tensed slightly when he heard the lid pop open on the lube; it was something he couldn’t help.

“Alright. Just try to relax then. We’ll take it slow; you need to enjoy this, too.” Sam spread the lube on his fingers and let it warm in his hand before he reached down to massage Dean’s tight hole. It had been a long time since they’d last done this and Dean was going to need some extra attention if he was going to get through it without any pain.

Sam sucked just the head of his brother’s cock into the wet heat of his mouth and swirled his tongue around the crown, trying to draw the man’s attention away from what was happening down below, at least until things started to feel good. Then he swallowed Dean deeply all of a sudden and pushed his index finger into his brother up to the first knuckle. He hollowed his cheeks and pulled away with a wet _pop_ and then trailed his tongue along the length of Dean’s hardened flesh, causing the man to tremble beneath him. As he did, Sam pushed his finger in the rest of the way.

Dean groaned and twisted on the bed, more out of pleasure than pain. He could deal with what his brother was giving him; this wasn’t his first time. And he knew Sam could make it feel good.

As Dean’s muscles relaxed, Sam slowly pushed another finger in and started to slip/slide them in and out of his brother’s nearly virgin hole. He continued bobbing up and down, deep-throating the man and, every now and then, allowed his teeth to drag over the sensitive flesh just the way he knew Dean liked it, a little pain mixed with pleasure.

His fingers were now smoothly moving in and out of Dean’s puckered hole without any resistance and he began to scissor them, stretching and prepping the man. Sam crooked his fingers and worked on finding Dean’s sweet spot. He knew he hit it when his brother gasped and very nearly jolted up off the bed.

“Holy shit, Sam,” Dean said in between breaths as fireworks exploded inside him. “God, I forgot what that feels-” And then his sentence was cut off by a throaty moan as his brother repeated the action and then snuck a third finger in with the first two.

“So close, Dean. God, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to fuck you.” Sam growled the words as he leaned in and licked up Dean’s twitching cock again. He caught Dean’s eye as he dipped his tongue into his brother’s slit, lapping up the salty drops of precum leaking out. “Then after, you can fuck me.” He grinned when Dean closed his eyes and let out a soft keen as he began to rock down onto his fingers. Wow, Sam couldn’t remember his brother ever being like this. _Maybe there was a bit of a “bottom” in Dean after all._ It was as if the man had let all of his long-guarded walls down. It made Sam ache all that much more to take him.

After another sweeping touch over Dean’s prostate, Sam pulled his fingers out. “Dean, which way do you want this? It’ll hurt less if you turn over.” He picked up the lube as he asked the question, squeezed some into his palm, and then took his own cock in hand.

It took Dean a second to focus and understand what Sam was saying. He looked down with heavy-lidded eyes and saw his brother waiting for him. The man was stroking himself and he saw the flushed head of Sam’s weeping cock disappearing in and out of his fist. He had a hard time lifting his eyes from the sight up to Sam’s eyes. “Oh, um, whatever way you want it, Sam. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” His voice was low and breathy, betraying the underlying lust.

Sam growled. _Dean was killing him here._ He scooted back and off the foot of the bed. “C’mere.” He gave a tug at Dean’s ankle, getting him to shift forward to the edge of the bed. He then lifted Dean’s legs by the ankles and rested them on his shoulders. “I’ll take it easy, Dean. Don’t wanna hurt you…but, god, I do wanna hear you scream my name,” he said with a smirk as he shifted forward and pressed up against Dean’s lube-slick entrance, pushing in just slightly. It wasn’t much, but even so, the man’s muscles clamped down.

Sam reached down and began to stroke Dean’s dick, bringing it back to life from where it had started to wilt. “Just breathe through it. It’ll feel better in a minute.”

And that was what Dean did; he took deep breaths and pushed through the burn as his brother began to move at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Sam inched his way into his brother and bit back another groan. _Holy shit was Dean tight_. They were going to have to do this more often to keep him a little looser. But the man seemed to be taking it in stride.

That was until, “Sammy, just do it already.” Dean suddenly reached down and grasped his brother’s hips, pulling him forward before he could react. Sam’s balls slapped up against Dean’s ass as he bottomed out, fully sheathed in the man’s heat.

“Fuck, Dean.” Sam grunted and stilled when he saw his brother clench his teeth. Dean always did have a hard time not topping from the bottom on the few occasions they’d done this.

“Move, please,” was all the man said; the words came out in almost a whimper.

Sam slowly pulled back and then thrust in again. After a few strokes, he felt Dean begin to relax and he adjusted his rhythm.

Dean dropped his head back down into the pillow. He was an idiot for forcing Sam in like that. _Jesus Christ did that hurt!_ But now the pain was dulling and a pleasurable warmth was taking its place. He fisted the covers and began to meet his brother thrust for thrust. “That’s it, Sammy. God, it feels so good.”

Once his brother started moving under him, Sam stopped holding back. He knew Dean liked it as hard and fast as he did. The younger Winchester concentrated on his movements and then changed his angle so he could hit that place and make Dean beg. As he did, he reached down and wrapped a large hand around the man’s rigid flesh, stroking it in time with his thrusts. It didn’t take long before Dean was calling out his name.

“Sam…fuck! I-” Dean arched up off the bed at Sam’s touch and cried out. Another few swift strokes of his brother’s cock _right there_ forced him over the edge. His toes curled and his body tensed up tight, and then he was lost, spurting thick, hot, white ropes of cum over his belly and chest. Sam continued to pound into him, gripping his hips tightly. “Sammy!”

A half dozen thrusts later, Sam’s jaw clenched as he plunged in one last time and spilled everything he had into his brother. “Fuck, yeah, Dean. S’good.” Sam shuddered and tried to catch his breath before reluctantly pulling out and then carefully lying down on the bed next to Dean. His eyes were closed as he took deep breaths, breaths that overstretched his sore ribs. _Why do we hunt again? Oh, yeah, because someone needs to do it._ He felt Dean get out of bed a moment later and cracked his eyes open to look up at him. “Where-”

“Just gonna wash up.”

“Oh, okay.” Sam let his eyelids close again. He was surprised when, a little while later, he felt a warm washcloth slide down between his legs, cleaning him up. It wasn’t something Dean ever did. “I can get that.” He went to take the cloth from the man, but his hand was pushed away.

“I got it, Sam. Just rest. Your ribs gotta be hurtin’ after that.” Dean always knew when Sam was in pain; it was uncanny how the man did that. “You want some ibuprofen or something?”

 _Oh, dear God, yes._ The dull ache was starting to become an incessant throb, even in just the last few minutes. If Sam had thought about it, he would have taken something before they had gotten started. It would be kicking in by now. “You got some?”

Dean was on his way back towards the bathroom and tossed the cloth onto the floor. Sam could hear the faucet running as Dean filled up a glass with cold water and then came back out.

“Yeah, I thought you might need it.” Dean handed Sam the glass of water before leaning over to pick the duffel bag up from the floor. He brought it over to the table and rummaged through it for a minute, then pulled out the bottle of pills and popped the lid. He looked over at Sam as he shook a few out into his hand. “Two or three?”

“Two should be fine.” Sam didn’t want to make the man worry.

Dean climbed back into bed a moment later and handed the pills ( _three_ of them) to Sam. “Take those and let’s get some sleep. We can order some food later and I think I remember you saying something about round two…only if you’re up to it though.” He winked at Sam with a smile.

“Thanks, and yeah. As for round two, that was my idea, so it’s definitely gonna happen,” Sam assured Dean with a grin before popping the tablets into his mouth and draining the glass of water. Just as he was going to roll over to try to get some sleep, Dean wrapped an arm around him. Sam lifted a brow in near shock. Dean _wasn’t_ a cuddler. Yeah, he’d let Sam snuggle up against him all night long, but this? “Christo,” Sam mumbled, mostly in jest…but still, even with their tattoos you never could know for sure.

All that got from Dean was a chuckle. “Sorry, Sammy. It’s all me over here. Just seeing how this stuff works. And I tell you, I think I might just like it” – Sam was like a big freakin’ full-body pillow – “so you may have to get used to it.” He nestled in closer and kissed the side of Sam’s bandaged chest lightly.

“I’m not complaining, Snuggles.” Sam choked back a laugh knowing how much his brother hated that fabric softener bear.

“Bite me, Sam,” Dean snorted and then a thought occurred to him. He shifted up onto an elbow so he could look down at Sam. “Hey, are you comfortable like this? I can move.” Dean was still a little concerned about Sam’s ribs.

“I’m fine, Dean. Just don’t squeeze too hard, is all.”

“Okay.” Dean lay back down. He made sure to keep the arm he wrapped around his brother down lower where it wouldn’t hurt.

A few minutes passed and Sam felt himself starting to doze when Dean spoke up again.

“Thank you, Sam.”

 _What in the world was Dean thanking him for, sex?_ “For what?” he mumbled tiredly.

“For waiting for me. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure things out.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Now get some sleep.” Sam leaned over and kissed the top of Dean’s head. Who knew his brother could be such a talker? He almost wanted to laugh and probably would if he wasn’t so exhausted...and sore.

“Yeah, okay. Love you, too.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

They had agreed to do Chinese for the first time since Chicago. When the knock came at the door, Dean jumped up to go get it, leaving Sam sitting on the bed flipping through the eight channels full of nothing on.

He unlocked the door and cracked it open, making sure it was just their food delivery and nothing else…not that he had a damn weapon on him, not even his Colt; Dean hadn’t given that much thought when he packed their stuff. He could picture his gun sitting upstairs on the nightstand next to the bed. (Strike two for Dean Winchester. If he kept up at this rate, he might as well just hand himself over to the next demon he walked into.)

But it was just their food. The delivery guy was standing on the stoop with a smile on his face and had two nondescript brown, paper bags in his hand. He was short – not even coming up to Dean’s shoulders – and the worn and frayed baseball cap he had on kept most of his features hidden from view. Almost instantly, the man’s presence rang a chord of familiarity. Dean frowned and tilted his head, eying him as they exchanged money for food. Finally, Dean shook his head; he was drawing a blank. Maybe he was just tired.

Dean closed the door and headed over to the table with their food. Halfway there, it clicked. “Holy shit!” He dropped the bags and spun around, making it back to the door in two seconds flat, only to open it up to…nothing. No one. No car. Just nothing. He walked outside and looked around. All was quiet. Finally, giving up with a defeated growl under his breath, Dean turned to go back inside. He nearly walked right into Sam as he did.

“Dean, what the hell’s going on?” his brother asked.

“It was that fucking Wu, that’s what,” Dean grumbled. “He was the guy delivering the damn food.”

“Seriously?” Sam peered over Dean’s shoulder out into the parking lot and then glanced up the road.

“It’s too late. He’s gone. C’mon, let’s just get back inside.” The elder Winchester slipped past Sam back into the room. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized who the guy was right away, but then again, he hardly even looked at the man for more than a second when they had been back at that shop; Sam was the one who had dealt with him.

Sam looked around once more before turning around to follow Dean in, closing and locking the door securely behind him. “What do you think he wanted? Did he say anything?”

Dean had gone into the bathroom to splash some cold water onto his face. _That goddamn Wu had been right there…and he let him slip through his fingers._ He was toweling off as he looked at Sam over his shoulder through the mirror. “I don’t know, Sam. And no, he didn’t say anything, nothing at all.”

Sam crouched down, biting back a grimace as he did so, to pick the spilled food up from the floor. “Pizza then?”

Dean looked at the bags in his brother’s hands as he came out of the bathroom; he had actually been looking forward to Chinese, but they couldn’t trust whatever that freakin’ shaman had brought. “Yeah.”

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

Sam fell into a light sleep again after dinner. Dean didn’t try to keep him from it; the man was still recouping from some serious injuries. But the elder Winchester found that he was too antsy to settle down; he couldn’t get the Wu out of his head. _Why had he bothered to even show up?_ Sam and Dean both knew by now that there was no pursuing the little man. If he didn’t want to be found, he wasn’t going to be found. There was no use even calling Bobby about it tonight; Sam could tell him about it tomorrow.

After a while, Dean quietly got out of bed – as he stood up, he winced a little at the reminder of what he and Sam had been up to earlier – and went to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and twisted the top off as he leaned back against the counter. Dean watched his brother sleep for a while; Sam looked so peaceful and content. You’d never know the stuff he’d survived just by looking at him. Dean wondered if he, himself, looked like that when he slept. Did the deep lines of tension on his face that he’d carried ever since Hell go away? The time downstairs had aged him well beyond his thirty-one years, both physically and mentally.

The hunter was halfway through his bottle of beer when the bags of Chinese food still sitting on the counter caught his eye. He randomly wondered if there were any fortune cookies in either of them. Dean had a weak spot for the things, and he usually found the enclosed fortunes quite amusing. Looking over to the bed to make sure Sam was still sleeping, he went to see what he could find.

“Ah-ha!” Dean grinned and reached into the second bag. There was only one cookie at the very bottom. “Cheapskate,” he muttered as he opened the wrapper and pulled the cookie out. In his mind, he knew he probably shouldn’t be touching anything in either of these bags – Sam would kick his ass – but well…the thing _was_ sealed in plastic wasn’t it?

He cracked the cookie open and pulled out its fortune. It read:

**_“Treasure the gift of a lesson learned.”_ **

Dean’s hand began to shake and he glanced over at Sam again. Was this a message from the Wu or just some _really_ freakish coincidence? Dean wasn’t sure if he should wake his brother or not. If it was just crap, he didn’t want to get the man’s hopes up.

Making his decision, Dean crumpled the small piece of paper in his hand and threw it away…the cookie, too. And then he picked up the bags and stuffed them into the garbage can as well. As a matter of fact, he picked up the can and put it outside the door for room service to take away. _Screw that shaman and his stupid riddles._ What was gonna happen, was gonna happen.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The rest of the evening came and went. The fortune was never mentioned.

They made love again with Dean taking the wheel this time; he was gentle with Sam, not wanting to hurt his still-healing brother. After, they lay in bed speaking quietly to each other, their twenty-four hours together slowly winding down. Neither said anything about it even though it stood out like an elephant in the room. They both knew once they went to sleep, their last few hours would go by in a heartbeat. They also knew they hadn’t made any forward progress in figuring this thing out.

Dean sighed as he brushed his fingers lightly along Sam’s bare shoulder. “We always have next week, Sam.”

Sam just moved closer to his brother and held him tighter. He didn’t say anything.

* S * U * P * E * R * N * A * T * U * R * A * L *

The clock on the nightstand slowly ticked on…seconds became minutes…minutes became hours. The night sky changed from cobalt to grey, to pink, and then to orange as the sun began its ascent. Sam instinctively gripped Dean tight in his sleep. Dawn arrived and passed, and yet he slept on. He felt movement in the bed beside him and knew he was still half dreaming of Dean. But then a kiss was pressed lightly to his temple.

“Sam.” It was a quiet whisper, barely there.

 _No, it’s a dream._ Sam didn’t open his eyes for fear that he’d lose this, whatever it was.

“Sammy, wake up.”

“You’re not real,” he mumbled, still refusing to open his eyes; he rolled over and pulled the blanket up over his head. This dream was going to kill him. Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to suffer being away from Dean for another week without _this_?

And then he felt the covers tugged from him. That was when his eyes opened wide. No dream could do that. Forgetting about his ribs, he spun around in bed and nearly cried out from the pain, but a choked “Dean?” fell from his lips instead.

“Hey.” And there was his brother’s perfect smile, _right there_. Green eyes were peering over at him; a mixture of relief and excitement shone clearly in them.

“But-”

“I know. The sun’s up.” Dean grinned brightly.

“How?” Sam’s brain wasn’t fully functioning yet. One-syllable words were about all he could muster between not being awake yet and the miracle that was sitting in front of him.

“Looks like we finally ‘fixed’ what was broken.”

Sam blinked and then ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the sleep away.

“Y’okay?” Dean asked, starting to get a little concerned at Sam’s reaction. The man seemed to be in mild shock.

“I… Yeah. Shit.” Damn, he still couldn’t talk. _What was wrong with him?_

Dean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “If you wanna go back to sleep...”

“No,” Sam said almost immediately, and then, “Dean?” This time he reached a hand out and cupped the side of his brother’s face. “S’that really you?”

“In the flesh, but without the feathers.” Suddenly, Dean found himself covered in Sammy. The man could move fast sometimes, even being as big as he was. “Sam, c’mon, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Dean, god.” Sam pulled away and looked at Dean like the man was going to change at any second. “It’s really you.” And the damn tears were starting again. “It’s over then?”

Dean thought about the fortune. “Yeah, something tells me it is this time.” He wiped Sam’s tears away, but he didn’t – _wouldn’t_ – make fun of him for that. “I think you were right about a lot of this, on how to _fix_ things, but that was just scratching the surface.”

Sam suddenly grasped what Dean was hitting on. “It all came down to us really accepting this, _us_ , and moving forward with our relationship…”

“As equals, partners. Yeah, I think so.” Dean shifted and rolled to his side. “You know, if I ever see that Wu again-”

“Dean, don’t you think you should just leave him alone now?”

“Nah, I think I wanna give him that hug.” Dean snickered and Sam snorted a laugh.

All of a sudden, Sam’s cell phone rang from his jeans which were still on the floor from last night. Dean groaned and rolled out from under his brother to retrieve it. When he finally found it, he passed the device over to Sam. “It’s Bobby.”

Sam took the phone and answered it. “Hello?”

“Mornin’ Sam. Sorry to wake you so early, but I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” There was a slight pause and then, “Something happened last night.”

“What, Bobby? Are you okay?” Sam tilted the phone away from his ear so Dean could listen in as well.

“It’s that little figurine, or totem, of yours. Since you two went off to do your own ‘fixin’ yesterday _,_ I decided to try to read up some more on it on my own. I left the thing sitting on my desk when I went to bed. Well, when I came down this morning, it was standing upright, all in one piece. Now is it just my imagination, or was that supposed to mean things between you and Dean are fixed?”

The brothers looked at each other. Sam bit into his bottom lip to keep from laughing, but Dean couldn’t hold back the snicker.

“Dean? Is that you?” Bobby nearly yelled into the phone.

“Yeah, Bobby, it’s me. Looks like things are back to normal on our end.”

“Goddammit, boys! Leave an old man in the dark, why don’t ya. You could’ve said something, Sam. I should give both you idjits a smack upside the head for that.” They heard a deep breath of relief come through the line. “Do I wanna know how you got yourselves fixed?”

“Probably not,” Dean said with a grin. Let Bobby squirm a little; it would be good for him. He’d give the man the G-rated details later.

“Heaven help me,” Bobby groaned. “So when will you decide to stop shackin’ it up at that there motel and come back here where the room’s free?”

“You really sure you want that, Bobby?” Dean asked, still smirking. He was starting to get a kick out of this. “I mean, we might-“

“Just get your asses back here and we’ll discuss things. I’m sure you’ll be back out on the road soon enough anyway knowin’ you two. It ain’t gonna kill me to have you two lovebirds fluttering around the place until then. Oh, and I also got a couple of new credit cards sitting here with your names on them, well not your names, but you know what I mean. I knew you probably forgot to take care of that little chore with everything that’s been going on.”

Sam answered this time before his brother could say something else that could possibly push the man over the edge. “Thanks, Bobby. Sometimes I wonder where we’d be without you.” – Their relationship may be evolving, but Dean was still the same person; nothing would ever truly change who he was deep down. Sam didn’t want that though, was never looking for that; Dean was who he was: Dean. And Sam loved him for that.

“Probably chasin’ your tails in circles. – Shit, sorry, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “It’s okay.” Bobby obviously hadn’t noticed that he had also just mentioned birds as well…or maybe he did and he didn’t feel the need to apologize. After all, Dean was clearly trying to make the older man uncomfortable.

Then Dean spoke up again. “Alright. So we’ll be back this afternoon. Checkout’s at eleven and it’s only seven. And I have a big, fluffy pillow callin’ my name.” _Maybe if there was enough time later, Sam would be calling his name instead._ He smiled to himself at the thought. They had a _lot_ of lost hours to make up for.

Sam tossed the phone onto the nightstand after they said goodbye. He rolled over and glued himself to Dean’s side, wrapping a long arm around him, and nuzzled into his neck. He didn’t ever want to let go.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“No more Chinatown…ever.”

Dean grinned and pulled Sam closer to him, brushing his lips against his brother’s temple. “Sounds good to me. Bobby can get his own damn book next time.”

 

 

 

 

_****_The End_ ** ** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a wrap. I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> I'd like to give a BIG thank you (and hug) to [RiatheMai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai) for being there to listen to me whine and gripe when I got stuck in certain places and also for her advice and ideas. She took my random thoughts and helped me put them together in a nice cohesive little package. -- I owe you some pie, girl!!  
>  
> 
> Oh, and the ending pic belongs to "traveller-in-time.tumblr.com". I just borrowed since I have no idea how to do manips and this one was just gorgeous :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to leave comments. If you don't feel like leaving a comment and like the story even just a little, hit the Kudos button so I know you were here.
> 
> Thank you!
> 
>  
> 
> **NEW** I've added my e-mail to my profile. If anyone should like to contact me for anything, please feel free to drop me a line :)


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